Chaos Bleeds
by Fang Friendly
Summary: Veronica just wanted a normal life. But being raised by the Watchers Council and becoming a full Slayer at age 11 doesn't bode well for her wishes. Things get stranger when she falls through a portal and lands in the 1980s. She quickly realizes that this world is very different from her own, but just because there aren't vampires around doesn't mean she'll get her hope for normal.
1. Chapter 1

This is a Disclaimer: This is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stranger Things crossover fanfiction. I do not own any of the Characters or recognizable plot points in either of these two Master Pieces. Buffy belongs to Joss Whendon, Mutant Enemy and Dark Horse Comics and whoever else actually owns the rights to the show, comics and novels. Stranger Things belongs to the Duffer Brothers and Netflix and whoever else is involved. I only own Veronica.

Spoilers:

Buffy- The whole series, specifically Season 7, and the Twilight arc of the Season 8 comics.

Stranger Things- As of right now only Season 1 but it will eventually expand into the whole series.

Authors note: The main character in this fic will be an OC from the Buffy universe, there will be many flashbacks and allusions to Buffy Characters and my OC's interactions with them, but little to no actual Buffyverse Characters actively in the main plot.

Authors note 2: This is my first ever fanfiction. As a first time writer I'm interested in feedback. But please be gentle. It's just an idea that popped into my head the night before and wouldn't leave.

Chapter 1:

_**Cleveland Ohio, 2006**_

Veronica Hernandez was staring into the mouth of Hell. And Hell stared right back in defiance letting loose a miasma of ash and death from its depths. The ground beneath her feet trembled, the fissure cracked open further and roars could be heard from inside closer to the surface than before. They were coming.

The Apocalypse was upon them. This wasn't the first one Veronica had ever experienced or fought in. She was there for the showdown with The First, and sure she was only eleven when it all went down but she'd still managed to kill more Turok-Han vamps than Xander and Dawn combined. She had helped stop several more apocalypses along the way, it's a slow year in Cleveland if you don't have at least two potential apocalypses on the Hellmouth. The point was, this wasn't Veronica's first rodeo but it sure felt like it might be her last.

As a Slayer she was used to the weird rushes that came with battle. A flood of adrenaline and energy that flowed through her veins as well as the contradicting calm that settled over her body. Her body, her reflexes, her mind all honed in on the battle about to begin. She stood poised and ready for the fight.

But as a Witch, which she was way before she was even called as a Slayer, she was more in tune with the metaphysical energy around her. And something deep in her gut, in the very core of who she was: mind, magic and soul knew that this was the end.

She'd never see any of these people again. Andrew, her best friend and brother figure. Dawn, another close friend and often a babysitter. Xander, her other brother all the way in Sunnydale facing the Big Bad along with the other Scoobies she'd never see again either. And Faith, who was an unlikely mother figure to her, who stood but a few feet away palming two wicked looking battle axes.

"You ready to kick some demon ass, lil' V?" Faith's raspy voice sent a shiver down Veronica's spine.

Veronica tightened her grasp on her own weapon, a battle axe similar to the Slayer Scythe design, three foot long staff with two handles and a red and silver curved blade on each end. It was a 14th birthday present from Faith, one that received a lot of disapproval from the Scoobies but quite a bit of awe from Andrew who wanted something similar for a DnD cosplay. The gift she'd received for her 13th birthday, a curved knife given to Faith by a Big Bad a few years back, was strapped to her leg and tucked into her Doc Martens.

Veronica looked to her left, met Faith's probing stare and gulped. "I'm five by five." Her voice wavered, and her following smile wobbled as she tried not to cry. She looked back toward the opening Helmouth. Her spidey-sense was going off like crazy. It was almost time to fight. Any second now and the Demons would ascend through the bowels of Hell.

She could feel the older Slayer's eyes burning into her skull. "Hey Faith?" Her eyes began to water and she blinked back the tears before they could fall.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For being there for me, and training me, and educating me on the finer side of wicked music and fashion. And rescuing me from Andrew and Xander induced nerdiness. And taking care of me. And just for giving a fuck." Veronica whipped her head around to stare at her mentor. "I know you have this whole lone wolf thing going on, dark and mysterious and shit. But you let me in. I can see that. You've told me things, showed me sides of yourself that you haven't shown Buffy, or Giles or Robin, maybe even Angel. And I just want to thank you for that. Because I am pretty sure I'm going to die today. And I just wanted to let you know that you're the best thing to ever happen to me. And that I love you like a Mom."

"What the fuck V?!" Faith spit out at her. She dropped her hands from her fighting stance and turned toward the mini slayer. Her eyes were wide and panicked. "Don't say shit like that! You ain't dying today. Not on my watch. You need to get your head in the game, this is just another apocalypse, lower case 'A'. Just one of many. We slay, we win and they lose. I do a little H'n'H, you do your one H and it's all five by five. And then we face the next one in a few months." She stepped up to Veronica and dropped a single battle axe, and used the free hand to grab the girl by the back of the neck. She pulled the girl into a semi embrace, Veronica's head tucked into the curve of her neck and there bodies angle away from each other due to the weapons they both held.

"You don't understand, Faith." She shook her head, trying to pull away to look the other Slayer in the eyes. Faith held her close and didn't let her move. Veronica gave up and took a breath. "It's my Slayer senses, it's like a Slayer dream but I'm awake. I just know. I won't be here after the battle, whether we win or lose, I won't be here to see the outcome."

Faith's grip on her tightened and her body tensed. "Well then we send you away. Willow-"

"Is in Sunnydale with the main squad. She's the only one with enough power to do the whole portal thingy."

Faith pulled on the hair at the base of Veronica's skull, forcing her head up to meet her stare. Faith's eyes were dark, and her jaw was clenched. "Then you get your ass out of here."

"How, the Hellmouth's about to unleash its worst on us, how am I supposed to outrun that?"

Faith let go of the young girl. Sneering as she bent down to pick up her forgotten axe. "Drive!"

"Like that's going to work! And I'm only fourteen! I don't know how to drive."

"Well why the fuck not?! I stole my first car when I was twelve, how have I not taught you that yet?" She raised her axe to emphasize her anger. "Grrrrr," she growled to herself. "Your not dying tonight kid! There's no way I'm allowing that to happen. Fuck your Slayer sense, and fuck the Powers that be. I'm not losing you twerp. So shut up and grow some tits, cuz it's about to go down."

The ground began to really shake beneath their feet, cracks broke out in every direction from the Hellmouth, pieces of earth crumbled off and fell into the cavern, and a giant tentacle shot into the air and slammed down a few yards away from them. A few Minis jumped out of the way, as boney spines suddenly extended from the slimy flesh of the demon limb.

"V, you follow me! Alright? Stick to me."

And then Hell ascended upon them.

It was a blur of battle. Turok-Han ubervamps crawled out amongst the other larger demons from the pits of whatever Hell dimension they crawled out of. It was intense. Blood, and dust and slime was everywhere. Veronica had beheaded several demons and hemisected an ubervamp from nose to navel before it fell to dust. She was fighting back to back with Faith when the giant tentacle struck again. They both dove in opposite directions as the tentacle created a wall between them.

"Veronica!" Faith jumped at the huge limb. She slashed her axes across the spines protruding from the monster. They broke off as she hacked away at it. The thing writhed around after she sliced into its flesh instead of the claws, black slime splattering across the floor and her clothes. The Demon's blood sizzled as it met her clothes, burning holes in her shirt and singing her hair as she backed away. "V?!"

Veronica herself was dealing with two Turok-Han on either side of her. She could hear Faith's cry of her name, her full name, which see never used. She didn't let that distract her though. She was a little too busy at the moment. She swung at one vamp with a circular swing of her scythe and let the motion continue to slice into the demon at her back. She was doing an alright job at keeping them at bay, but she knew she couldn't kill one without leaving herself open for a fatal attack from the other. They circled her, always making sure to stay on opposite sides of her never too close to each other to make it harder on her.

"Fuck this shit." Veronica suddenly charged at one, planting her axe into the ground and using it to help vault herself into the air and behind one of the vamps. She quickly beheaded the vamp and readied herself as the dust cloud cleared. She looked at her remaining enemy only to see another cloud of dust settle to reveal that Dawn had dusted the other vamp.

"Need a hand?" The older girl quipped as she came to stand next to the mini Slayer.

"Thanks," Veronica's eyes flashed a golden yellow as she waved a hand in a slicing motion diagonally in front of herself. Her magic slicing through the torso of some kind of green skinned demon that came up behind Dawn. "But you should really watch your own back."

Dawn swiveled around to see the demon behind her fall in two. She whipped back around to give the young Witch-Slayer a half smile. "I totally had that one."

"Mmhm." They moved so that they were back to back as a second wave of demons erupted from the Hellmouth. They talked as they fought. "You know, I'm totally glad you guys insisted that I take up Gymnastics! You know, or else I'd have totally been dead by now."

"I'll make sure to let Buffy know, she's planning to make it a requirement for all new Slayers."

"V?!" Faith's shout could be heard from the other side of the huge Demon Tentacle.

Veronica dusted a vamp and wiped away the blood and sweat that had started to drip into her eyes. The vamp had got her good, a claw slicing into her scalp before she had the chance to perry it away. "Five by Five on this end!" She shouted back across the writhing monster.

Dawn quickly let Faith know that Veronica wasn't on her own. "I got her Faith. We're totally kicking ass on our side." And she wasn't wrong, the army of slayers were indeed making a dent in the demonic army they faced. It actually seemed like they were going to win this time, they just needed Buffy and Spike to do whatever it was they needed to do down in Sunnydale.

"Good! You stick with her, D. I can't get over this ugly giant worm, and try not to hack into it, its blood is acid." There were sounds of grunting and fighting on both sides before Faith spoke again. "And Veronica?" She paused, "I'll see you later."

Veronica understood the words for what they really were. A promise. She smiled as she dodged a punch from a demon. "I'll see you later, Faith." And then she and Dawn ran off towards a group of slayers fighting behind some overturned cars. The earth shook and the Hellmouth opened up further, about five more giant tentacles shot out of the ground, collapsing the ground near the source from which they came. They all slammed down into the earth, destroying everything in their path. A small building came crashing down around one, cars were crushed underneath another and a few unfortunate Minis that were too slow were lost beneath a couple of the giant tentacles. The tentacles burrowed into the ground, and whatever was attached to them began to use its limbs to help lift itself out of the Hellmouth.

"Run!" Veronica yelled toward the teams closest to the edges of the Hellmouth. Veronica wasn't sure if they had heard her or not, or if they'd figured it out themselves but they all fled from the Mouth of Hell as the ground beneath them crumbled away and the largest demon she'd ever seen in her life, crawled out into the open. It was all writhing limbs and pincers like some kind of giant walking octopus and crab orgy. It roared as it made it onto land, and slayers and witches were crushed beneath its mass.

"Dear gods." The giant monster was only the beginning. It seemed as though the beast had been blocking off most of the Hellmouth with its mass, and now that it was no longer blocking the opening, the real army made its way to the surface, hundreds of more demons climbed out all at once.

They were fucked.

And just when Veronica was about to open her mouth to state so, Dawn and the other slayers quickly ran passed her toward the giant monster and the giant whole in the ground.

"I'm definitely dying today." Veronica ran to catch up to them, slicing and dicing as she did so.

There were so many fucking vampires, like fucking rats pouring out into the open. Veronica stopped and dropped her axe, holding out her hands instead and focused on chanting a spell Willow had taught her. Dawn and a few others circled back to protect her as they realized what she was going to do. The others formed a loose circle around her fighting off demons as they came near.

Veronica chanted and she could feel the power flow through her as she did so. She couldn't see it herself but she knew that her magic was swirling around her, almost physical in its potency. Her hair whipped around by a nonexistent wind that was her magic, and her eyes glowed gold and she hovered off the ground a good four inches. And when she built up enough power and reached the end of the spell she shot her hands out in front of her and swept them around and sunlight escaped her palms, incinerating the vamps in their wake. Dawn could see that several other teams had followed Veronica's lead, surrounding there designated witches and letting them work their mojo.

The slayers cheered as the enemy's army thinned. And they swept outward taking out the demons unaffected by the beams of light. Dawn stayed by her side, laying a bloody hand across the girl's shoulder, unknowingly lending the young Slaywitch power and magic that only fueled the girl's spell.

The ground beneath them shook again, and the floor began to give way, though they were quite a ways away from the Hellmouth opening Dawn began to tug the girl away, as the hole expanded. Veronica stopped chanting, though her eyes still glowed. She picked up her Scythe and ran with Dawn but they were too slow.

The ground began to crumble beneath their feet and though the earth stopped shaking and they kept running, it was too late. They could see a large crack in the ground a few yards ahead of them, that marked their finish line. Veronica could feel that this was the end. So she took hold of Dawn's arm and swung her forward tossing the older woman just far enough to where she rolled across that crack that signified their death with a few feet to spare.

Dawn was safe, she knew that now. But that didn't mean that she was going to just let herself die that easily. The earth beneath her caved in, she ran up the inclined slab of concrete as it began to tip into the open abyss of the Hellmouth and jumped for the sturdy earth a few yards away.

She wasn't going to make it. There was no way she was going to make it. But she made a promise to Faith and she was going to try her hardest to keep it. As she fell she held her scythe with two hands and swept it down with all her strength, hoping to anchor herself to solid land.

The scythe struck land and she cried out as she held onto the handle of her blade. Her weight pulled her down, snapping her arms out and slicing her palm against the secondary blade of her weapon as she tried to find a sturdy position to hold onto.

"Veronica!?" Dawn popped her head over the rim of the Hellmouth. Veronica was sure that the sight wasn't pretty from her point of view. Veronica was sure that demons were scaling up the sides of the cavern as she held on for dear life. If she could somehow hold on to the Scythe indefinitely she would still be killed by the hordes of demons trying to escape the Hellmouth.

"Lil' V!" Veronica could hear Faith in the distance.

Dawn tried to lean over to reach the young girl. The part of the blade from Veronica's scythe that wasn't embedded into the ground dug into her sternum as she did so, but she only pushed further. Blood dripped from her hand and onto Veronica's face. "Faith, over here! Help. Please, Faith."

"There's no use Dawn." Veronica, had accepted that she was going to die, but she didn't want to bring anyone down with her. "Just go, let me go."

"No! Shut up and just give me your hand." Blood continued to drip across the girl beneath her as she flailed her arm about trying to get as close to Veronica as possible.

"No. I'm too far. And even if I could reach, then I'd just take you down with me."

"Stop that! Shut up and just take my fucking hand!" Dawn grunted in frustration. They could both hear Faith's yelling getting closer, but they knew that by the time she'd reach them it would definitely be too late. Dawn began to cry, "use your fucking powers or something, come on! No!"

Veronica blinked her eyes, she tried to build up her energy but it was all gone. She'd spent most of her energy on the Sun Spell. There was nothing left to help her. Her eyes changed color, from her light brown to a pale translucent yellow. Usually they'd glow gold with her power, now they were dead, just hollow.

Blood from her earlier head wound began to leak into her eyes, Dawn's blood dripped across the girl's face, and into her open wounds.

"Just grab my hand, you made Faith a promise." Veronica knew it was useless but she did indeed make that promise. So she steeled herself and reached for Dawn's hand. Their bloody fingers touched.

"Veronica?!" It was Faith she was here.

Veronica jumped and so did Faith. Faith had jumped toward the girls. Wrapping her arms around Dawn's waist as she and Veronica were about to tip over into the Hellmouth. Veronica's hand reached for Dawn's and this time they connected. Her other hand shot out to hold on to Dawn's arm for support.

But both of them were bloody and their mixed blood made them slick.

Veronica slipped.

All three girls screamed.

Veronica fell backwards into the mouth of Hell.

But her eyes flickered gold as she did so.

As she fell towards the waiting hands of demons, a glowing green portal opened up beneath her. Swallowing her whole.

—-

Dawn almost tipped over into the Hellmouth, but Faith pulled her back onto solid ground. They rolled onto their backs a few feet away from the crater.

"Dawnie?" Dawn looked over at Faith with a smile. "Let's not do that again." Faith let out a throaty chuckle. She picked herself up with ease, rolled her neck and stretched her arms.

"Hey what's that?" Dawn still on the floor pointed to a shiny red something sticking out of the ground near the edge of the Hellmouth.

Faith peered over and saw a red handle in the ground, she wrapped her hand around it despite the blood that covered the once shiny red metal. She pulled and the most wicked looking weapon she'd ever seen came loose.

"Woah!" Dawn stood now and leaned over to get a better view of the weapon. "That looks like the Slayer Scythe." She made to reach for it but something in Faith tensed at the action. She swept the weapon out of the younger girl's reach.

Dawn pouted at her but Faith ignored it. The thing did look like the Slayer Scythe. The axe heads were a perfect replica of the ones on the mystical weapon, but there was no stake at the end of the handle, instead another blade mounted on the opposite side of the staff. There was also an interesting grip in the center, the bevels looked like the one on the end of the stake, her hand fit perfectly on the grip.

She held it out in one hand, gripped at the center. It was perfectly balanced. She swung it around a few times and used it to behead a demon. It worked like a charm. The scythe didn't hum with magic and Slayer essence like the Slayer Scythe did but it felt _right_ in her hands.

"I wonder where it came from?" Dawn peered at it after dusting a vamp.

"Well I don't know where it came from, or who it belonged to but it's mine now." She gave the younger girl a wide smile before diving back into the fray of battle.

_Mine._

—-

_**Sunnydale California, 2006**_

Buffy Summers swung her Slayer Scythe into the Seed of Wonder.

And magic was destroyed.

—-

_**Cleveland Ohio**_

Veronica woke up in the middle of a field. The sun was in her eyes, and a piece of wheat was tickling her nose. This was weird because she should be dead, not that she was complaining about being alive. She just didn't expect to be waking up at all, let alone by herself in an open field.

She sat up, fighting off a wave of dizziness as she did so. She was covered in dirt and blood and vampire dust and grass. The blood on her clothes was dry and just looked like mud at this point. _Ugh, this was her favorite shirt. _

"Where am I?" She asked herself. She stood up and began to dust herself off. She didn't expect and answer but she got one anyway.

"Cleveland," came a voice of a little boy. Veronica whipped around to find a small boy about 6 years old, standing behind her.

"What!?" Her hands flew to her chest, feeling the rise of her pulse beneath her fingertips.

"You're in Cleveland." The little boy said again.

"Yeah I know, I heard you you just scared the sh-um," she cleared her throat to cover up her slip of the tongue. "You just scared me, kid."

"Oh." The boy just blinked at her. He was starting to creep her out.

"Hey kid," she looked around to see if there was anyone else around, maybe the kids parents. She had to make her way back to the Hellmouth and see what was going on. If she was still in Cleveland like the little guy said then she should be able to see or hear the fight still going on. The battle was a night time one and the sun was shining bright so the battle must be over if the world was still standing the following day. They won!

_Oh thank the Powers!_

"What day is it?" The question slipped out when she noticed he was looking at her questioningly.

"Tuesday." The kid was looking at her like she was stupid.

"What?! You mean Wednesday, right?" Yesterday was Tuesday, Apocalypses always start on a Tuesday.

"No it's Tuesday. Yesterday was Monday, because that was the first day back at school, the day before that was Sunday because mom made me put on a stupid tie to go to church, and-" The kid was just going to continue, so she cut him off real quick.

"Okay, kid. You're _really _sure it's Tuesday. I get it." She looked around and spotted a truck a ways down the road. "Is that your parent's car?"

"Mhmm"

Veronica quickly started to jog over to the vehicle pulled up along the side of the road, with its hood popped up. The boy followed.

"Uh, kid, does your mom have a phone with her?"

"My mom's at home. We have one at our house. But that's back that way," he pointed out back toward where they were earlier. "And don't call me kid! Your barely older than me!"

Veronica slowed down as they neared the truck, rolling her eyes at the boys words. "God who doesn't have a cellphone now a days? What is this the seventies?"

"No, its-" Veronica heard his words and stopped as she reached the passenger door.

She moved to lean against the car door and noticed that she had to reach up to grab onto the open window sill. And that when she did palm the door frame that her hand was tiny, like _tiny _tiny.

She looked down and noticed her shoes looked so big on her little skinny legs, and how _flat_ her chest was.

_Oh shit. _

Veronica rounded the front of the car and came face to face with a man in his thirties with a full on mullet.

She turned her head and looked into the gleaming metal of the trucks grill, and her ten year old face stared back at her.

"_Motherfucker."_

—_-_

_**Cleveland Ohio, 1980**_

Veronica Hernandez fainted. And smacked the back of her head against the concrete.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

_**Ohio, September 21, 1980**_

Veronica had been in the year 1980 for all of five days and she had already lost all hope that she would make it back home. She was almost thirty years in the past. Every person she would have turned to in a magic mixup wasn't even born yet, or they were on a different continent.

_If they even existed anymore. _

Veronica was _pretty_ sure that she was actually in an alternate reality, or universe, or dimension of some kind. She wasn't really sure what the difference between all of those terms were, but she did know that there were differences. She vaguely remembered Andrew giving her a lecture on something similar once, there was a mention of cheese and shrimp, but she really just blocked out the whole thing. She was good with nerdiness, but only when it came to pop culture. Movies and games were her things, quantum physics and what not was a bit above her pay grade.

The reason she was so sure that she wasn't in _her_ reality was that there seemed to be no magic.

—-

_**Cleveland**_ _**Ohio, September 17th, 1980**_

Veronica had woken up from her embarrassing fainting episode as she was being placed onto a gurney in a hospital emergency room. Lights buzzed above her head, those long fluorescent ones that you can always hear buzz and flicker. There were so many voices as several adults talked above her head, and one small voice chattered at her from somewhere near her waist. Apparently the little boy from the field turned out to be one Aaron Myers, age six _and a half_ (the half was _very_ important). He and his father Allen had settled her into the back of their cab and drove her to the nearest hospital.

Aaron Myers was a little off on his first words to her. She did not wake up in Cleveland but in a field just between the city and Akron, in front of the Richfield Coliseum which she'd never before heard of. But she assumed it was about the same area where the Hellmouth would have existed in her reality. She'd gathered that info from the people talking above her.

She was glad she had woken when she did. Hospitals had the tendency to cut first and ask questions later. All she had were the clothes on her back and the stuff she had stashed in her shoes. Sure the shirt was about four sizes too big and her pants were only held in place by a belt, and yeah they were covered in demon guts but they were all she had and she wasn't about to let some quacks cut them off her to get to a wound that was probably halfway healed by now anyway.

She couldn't afford to lose anything that she had, and she didn't think they'd have reacted too well to finding the knife she had hidden under her pant leg, or the iPod she had tucked into a pocket she had sewn into the lining of her boots. She also probably still had a few bills tucked in there somewhere too.

_Has money changed since the 80s? Would someone think her bills were fake?_

Veronica had tried to make a break for it, it wasn't like the public had been too friendly with Slayers in the- _her_ recent past. The whole Twilight and Anti-Slayer bullshit really put a dent on her already almost nonexistent people skills. But she was still physically tired from the battle. She could tell that her surface wounds had mostly healed up, the one on her head might still have been open, but at least it had stopped bleeding. It was the internal things that slowed her escape. Her ribs hurt, now that she had focused on taking in her injuries, they might have been cracked from a few blows she'd taken in her threeway standstill.

What really put a damper on her jailbreak, and what she would never admit to anyone, was the shoes. Veronica had hopped off the gurney as they were wheeling her past a waiting room and made it all of ten feet before she tripped. Her shoes were now like three sizes too big so she tripped over a raised trim from where the carpet turned to tile. And as she extended her arm to catch herself she had underestimated the distance between her newly smaller body and the wall and smacked down onto the cheap linoleum shoulder first.

And dislocated her arm

"Who the fuck puts carpet in a Hospital?!" She could feel the eyes of everyone in the waiting room, a few women even gasped or _tsked_ at her language. The boy's father had been following the gurney and began to approach her slowly. He gave her his name and asked if he could help her sit up.

"What's your name, Sweetheart?"

Veronica was curled up on the floor, clutching at her shoulder. And the situation really sunk in at that moment. She could hear the news on the TV talking about Christians protesting in downtown Cleveland about letting some band perform at a concert hall somewhere in the city.

"_They're endorsing Marijuana!"_

"_The single 'Another One Bites the Dust' was released earlier this year-"_

Veronica was in 1980. Alone. Faith was probably only a few months old, somewhere in Boston with an alcoholic mother and an absentee father. Veronica didn't even know if Giles would be a reliable ally. He might have still been in his ol' Ripper days. Even if he _was _in fact currently all about the tweed, he was on a whole different fucking continent!

_Ugh. She'd have to rely on Angel. Gross._

But being honest with herself, Veronica was willing to admit that she'd take the brooding vampire any day over having to deal with this on her own. She hadn't been on her own since Giles had retrieved her from the Devon Coven back in 2002, _or forward in 2002_. Her head hurt.

The man still had his hand extended towards her, palm up and patiently waiting for her own hand. She stared at him. Other than the unfortunate thing that was his mullet he seemed like a nice guy. Average height, brown hair, blue eyes, and lean. He had crinkles around his eyes, and lines around his mouth that showed that he was a happy man, he smiled and laughed a lot. His son looked just like him, maybe a smaller and more rounded nose though. Aaron stood behind his father with his hand fisted in the older man's shirt.

She put her hand in the Dad's, the hand that had been clutching at her injured shoulder. She decided that she could trust these people. For now. At least until her shoulder had been properly reset.

"Veronica." She cleared her throat, it was dry. She licked her lips, soothing her chapped lips as she tried to put her words together. "My name is Veronica."

"Okay, well let's get you back on that gurney, Veronica. And no Jailbreaks this time." He gently helped her up off the floor, but her shoulder was still jostled in the process.

She walked back towards the group of nurses and doctors that she had previously ran from. She made sure to stare down the doctor who was looking at her with the most disapproval. Major eye contact was being made. Yeah, she tried to make a break for it. And? She wasn't ashamed and she always stood by her decisions. She was slightly regretting the shoulder, but she wasn't going to be cowed by some doctor that didn't know the first thing about her. He looked away first.

She so won that one.

They wheeled her into an area sectioned off by a curtain in what looked like urgent care. Maybe? Veronica didn't spend much time in hospitals she didn't really know the difference. They passed by a few open curtains: an older man hooked up to an IV; a woman and her son arguing about something or other; a teenage girl sitting in a gown alone in her little room.

They stopped at the end of the hall/room. Then they started in on the inquisition.

What is your name?

"Veronica Hernandez." She figured that the truth couldn't hurt her too much. Hernandez was a pretty common Latino name. Though after she said it, she wondered if she should have went with something else, maybe a little less ethnic. She was half Mexican and she didn't have any proof of her existence in this time. They could probably deport her if she was being honest with herself. The 80s wasn't all sunshine and big hair, racism and homophobia was a big thing back then, _now. _But it was too late to take it back.

Age?

"Ten?" It came out like a question. She honestly didn't know how old she was physically. It wasn't like she could say 14, she didn't look a day over ten. Veronica was always a small child, which was why she had to do so much extra Slayer training when she was but a wee little potential still being raised by the Council. Her body looked like she was eight, but that was just her short Hispanic genes. Her gut told her that she was ten. She nodded her head and repeated her answer. Ten felt right.

Do you know what happened to you?

"No." And she really didn't know. One minute she was falling to her death and the next she was here.

No, that wasn't right.

One minute she was falling to her death, and then she felt a rush of energy roll through her. Power flared across her skin, making the hairs on her arms stand at attention. Then she woke up in 1980. But she wasn't as strong as Willow. She didn't have the power to bend time and space to her will like the redheaded Witch. She could admit to herself that she had read some of the texts on the subject but wasn't stupid enough to try to attempt such a thing on her own. She wasn't responsible for whatever it was that brought her here, but whatever did it was powerful.

"I don't know."

And that's how the rest of the conversation went. The doctors asked a question, she said she didn't know anything and then it continued. The Myers duo stepped out sometime during the questioning. A nurse pulled out a few items from the cabinets behind the doctors and then quickly left the room.

"We're going to need you to go ahead and change into this hospital gown. Is that okay?" Veronica nodded her head and everyone left. She hopped off the gurney and onto the floor.

Her shoulder jostled and the pain flared up, but she just grit her teeth and pushed past the pain.

She bent down to untie her shoes, and realized that it was really fucking hard to do so with only one hand. After a few attempts at undoing the knot she realized that she could just slip her foot out now that they didn't fit her anymore.

She had a hard time unstrapping the knife sheath from her leg. For some reason the holster had remained tight against her calf, it had shrunk to fit her leg. Veronica brought the sheath up to her face for a better look. The black leather was familiar under her fingers. She'd had the knife and holster for over a year. On one side of the sheath were the initials VLH branded into the fine leather. On the other side, the side that settled against her skin, was nothing.

Veronica smoothed her thumb across the leather and could feel something there. She pushed the barest amount of power into her finger tip and traced her thumb across the surface once again. A path of runes lit up in a golden light, fading as her finger moved away from each engraving and then camouflaging into the leather once again. "Protection," "durability," and "flexibility." There were a few more runes thrown in but those were the main ones. The sheath was spelled to grow to fit her and never break or damage. The magic receded back into her. She knew her eyes were also fading from the same golden glow as her magic.

She didn't know why her eyes glowed gold. She assumed it had to do with her Slayer abilities, as far as she knew there had never been a Witch called as a Slayer. The Council apparently had been in the mood to experiment when they had picked her up as a newborn. The Devon Coven seers had foreseen Veronica's birth and had been able to trace her location with the spell used to locate Potentials before she was even born. She hadn't even made it past the second trimester yet. Apparently that was pretty rare.

Giles thought that the Devon Coven were able to sense her fetus because of the latent magic that encased her soul. Very few magic users were born with magic within themselves. Most are born with the ability to access the magic around them, or the energy given off by certain mystical or natural objects or beings. Like called to like, and the magic in her soul somehow amplified whatever pinged off on the Potential radar.

Andrew just said that the Force was strong with that one. Veronica secretly agreed.

She blinked her eyes a few times to clear any lingering brightness. She quickly stashed the knife under the mattress of the gurney. She then stripped herself down to just her socks, underwear and a sports bra, and neatly folded her pants, belt and two shirts she had been wearing into a pile by her boots.

The underwear was baggy but they were a brand new pair, so the elastic waistband actually fit across her small body just fine. She took a moment to examine her body. The first thing that she had noticed were the bruises that colored her skin. There was only one purple bruise, the rest had already begun to heal and were already in their yellowish stages. Her ribs on her right side were purple, but she didn't want to move her arm on that side and bring back the sharp pain by examining the area. She had a few cuts across her chest and a lot of knicks that littered her arms. It looked like she had a fight with a cat and lost. Blood covered her arms.

Veronica looked beyond the wounds to examine her new body. She was all boney, with knobby knees, and she could see where the bone of her arm was grotesquely sticking out near her collarbone. She was paler than she had previously been. Where her skin was once a beautiful caramel brown, she was now pasty and washed out. She looked paler than Spike. Her curly brown hair was shorter than it had been as well, by about five inches. Her hair barely brushed her shoulders now. Her dark brown, almost black, locks were tangled and had grass sticking out in most places the sight made her grimace. Her hair was the one vanity she allowed herself. It would take forever to fix the mess that it was in.

She quickly threw on the hospital gown, and tied the thing the best she could with her injuries. She leaned over and checked for feet behind the curtain. It was empty. She figured she had a couple more minutes before someone came back in.

Veronica went to the sink in the corner of the room. Washing off the blood sounded like a good idea to her. She turned on the sink and let the water run warm while she lathered her arms in basically all the soap they had. She let the water run across her arms for a couple seconds.

The water ran a rust colored red. She began to scrub, lightly using nails to get the dried flaky spots off. She worked her way from her elbows down to her wrists. She went full on surgical scrub via Dr. Grey.

_Man, that was a good show. O'Malley was so adorkable. Dawn preferred McDr-_

Dawn. Whose blood was literally on her hands. Veronica began to scrub a little harder. The water went from warm to hot, but she scrubbed and scratched at her arms until the water ran red with the blood from her reopening her wounds.

A couple nurses walked passed the curtain, gossiping about one of their coworkers as they passed by.

That snapped her out of her mini breakdown.

Ugh. Veronica hated gossips. "Way to slut shame, Karen. It's not like the men should take any responsibility in the situation."

She grumbled to herself about snooty bitches as she switched the faucet to cold, rinsing of the last of the blood and began to carefully pat her arms down with a paper towel.

As she examined her now clean arms she noticed something new.

009

She now had a tattoo on her left wrist. "What the fuck?"

She turned her arm this way and that hoping that viewing it at different angles or a different shade of light might make it disappear. She ran her fingers over the ink. It was slightly raised, definitely scarred over and completely healed already. This thing wasn't new.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of time traveling passport? They just brand people now?!"

She could hear one of the doctors from before talking to someone as he approached. Veronica panicked. How was she supposed to explain this shit?!

She took a deep breath and concentrated on remembering the words to a certain spell. She chanted under her breath, eyes closed to hide the odd light in her eyes. She turned her back to the curtain and finished her incantation just as a fist wrapped around the curtains edge. She held her palms flat against her chest and she felt the magic flare from the center of her torso out to into every fiber in her body. Her skin rippled as the magic moved outward, concealing every bruise, cut and tattoo that littered her body. The doctors wouldn't see them, if they touched them they would feel nothing but smooth skin.

The grumpy doctor from earlier entered the makeshift room. A female nurse followed him in. They did the whole physical examination. Checked her eyes, ears, and throat. Checked her breathing. And when she mentioned her arm he raised a brow.

"You think you dislocated your arm?" The doctor asked in a skeptical tone of voice.

"Yes. I've dislocated bones before. I know what it feels like. I also got a good look at it when I was getting undressed. It's dislocated."

"It's highly unlikely. I saw your little stunt earlier. A fall like that won't do anything."

"It would if my joint had been under stress previously!"

"The pain you'd be in-"

"Oh, my Goddess!" Veronica began to fiddle with the tie at the side of her gown. She shoved the shoulder of the gown down and showed them her bare shoulder blade. The thing was definitely out of the socket. In her boney childish body the disfigurement was even more pronounced. A lump the size of her fist protruded from her collar, it was the skin stretched tight across the end of her humerus.

She watched his words die on his lips. She smirked at him. Yeah she won that round too.

"_Motherfucker_!"

The doctor quickly popped the bone back in place. And it hurt like a bitch. She narrowed her eyes at the slight lift at the corner of his lips. Maybe this round was a draw.

She rolled her shoulder a bit to make sure the joint was in right. It was. It just really hurt. The nurse passed her an ice pack and then they left again.

_Sadistic fucking doctors._

She had a feeling that she was going to be there for a while. And she was. It felt like hours before she saw anyone besides a nurse that came in to bring her a sandwich and water. Eventually she had a lovely little chat with a few police officers. They'd asked her the usual questions, but they'd asked her a new one too.

"Where are you from? What city do you live in? Are you from the area?"

Veronica paused at that. She didn't really know what her best option would be right now. She could say Cleveland, but it wouldn't take long for them to piece together the fact that she actually didn't have any relatives in the area. They'd probably send a squad out to where the future Slayer Organization headquarters would be located, but it could be a McDonald's for all she knew. She figured the further the better as it'd take time for them to confirm any information she gave.

She opened her mouth to tell them Los Angeles, but ended up saying "Sunnydale, California" instead. LA was a big city, it was probably easier to get a hold of then the number of the local sheriff's station in a small town like Sunnydale. It would buy her more time. "1630 Revello Drive."

Veronica took a moment to down the rest of her water. She threw back her head and chugged down the last half of her water bottle as the two officers shared a look with one another. "Right. We're going to go see what we can find. You sure you don't have a telephone number we can call, kid?" She shook her head. The two officers left, shutting the curtain behind themselves.

"Never heard of a Sunnydale before, have you?"

"Naw, it's probably one of those smaller cities up north or something. I'd have been surprised if you did. Never stepped a foot out of Ohio a day in your life!"

"Let's just take this down to the station and check in on that call to CPS. Someone should have come down by now."

The two men walked away and she was left alone once again. Veronica huffed out a breath and flopped back onto the mattress. She wondered if the others survived the battle. If the Scooby Gang back in Sunnydale got a hold of whatever would destroy Twilight's effect on their universe. She was sure that Buffy did what had to be done, the girl was the poster girl for Apocalypse ending, but everyone's luck ran out eventually. The original Slayer had escaped death twice, she was running out of chances.

Veronica was being broody. She _knew_ that her side won, she just didn't know at what cost. She vividly remembered seeing a Slayer crushed to death by that ugly ass octopus thing. She knew they'd lost people on their side. She just hoped that _her _people weren't amongst the casualties.

If they survived, were they looking for her? Did time continue on while she was stuck in the past? Or did things pause until she made it back? You know, live a week in the past and pop back in where she had originally left off?

Veronica curled into herself, staring off at the patterns in the groves of the wall. She allowed herself to continue her pity party.

At least another five minutes.

Only five.

She fell asleep in three.

—

_**Cleveland Ohio, September 21, 1980**_

Veronica thought back to when she had woken up after falling asleep at the hospital. She had woken the following morning to the whispered voices of a police officer and someone from child services.

Apparently there was no such place as Sunnydale. And that's what really woke her up.

No Sunnydale.

Sunnydale was founded in the 1800s, Wilkins and demons and whatnot. It existed. She'd been there. She'd fought there! She help destroy that sucker. There was no way it didn't exist.

It felt like a weight had settled in her stomach. There was a physical ache in her gut as she tried to avoid what a lack of Sunnydale could mean.

She needed to do some research and she needed to do that right at that moment. Which lead her to interrupting the two people outside her room to ask to use the restroom. After a round of introductions, she was allowed to go. She quickly slipped on her boots claiming cold feet, and tucked her knife into the waistband of her underwear.

She did in fact use the little girl's room. It had been about two days since she had actually used the restroom. She also took the time to try to tame the mess that was her hair. She splashed water onto her hair and tried to finger-comb out any knots. She washed her hands and let the faucet run before heading towards the door. While her escort's back was turned she slipped from the room, leaving the door locked from the inside and dashed down the hall. She quickly passed a few rooms, dodging hospital staff as she did so, hiding behind doors and peeking around corners. It was all very James Bond.

She found the room from the day before. The mother and son, they were both gone, but food was still left out on the little tray they provided so she assumed they'd be back soon. She quickly went through a cabinet in the wall and found a clear bag with the boys belongings in them. She stole the boys jeans. They looked like they would fit. She kicked off her shoes and pulled on the pants, they did fit, almost perfectly. They were definitely too long for her so she cuffed the legs a few times. She jammed her sock clad feet back into her boots and tied them as tight as she could before she dashed back into the hallway.

She could hear banging going on down the hall. They probably noticed her lack of response from the bathroom. The teenager from yesterday was pulling on a pair of pants herself when Veronica stumbled through her curtain. She swiped up the shirt the girl had yet to pull on and dashed back out. She managed to make it outside without being noticed. She tore off her hospital gown and threw on the stolen long sleeved top. It was red. Not really her color but it would do for the moment.

She had research to do.

And research she did.

First stop? The local library. There she confirmed that there was indeed no Sunnydale. No UC Sunnydale, _Sunnydale Press, _nothing. It was hard enough that the computers in the library weren't actually connected to any kind of internet source or search engine. They were really only good for typing things up.

And wasn't that a slap in the face. Veronica was used to being able to google shit like this. The only time she had to crack open book was when she had to research demons, and even then Willow had managed to upload almost everything they had onto their Online Demonology Database (Odd for short).

Veronica put on her best smile and somehow convinced the librarian that she had a project of some kind about different colleges in California. The lady directed her towards a couple books on universities and a couple books on maps when she asked for one. She even offered Veronica a piece of candy from a jar on the counter. The Slayer got to work, she read everything she could get her hands on that had anything to do with California.

No Sunnydale.

Well alright then, maybe she was in an alternate reality where Sunnydale never existed. These things happened. She just needed to check out some sources in the area before she did anything drastic. It was late though so Veronica made a show of thanking the librarian before heading out. And then she immediately snuck right back in through a side entrance. She spent an hour or so in a janitor's closet before she was able to confirm that she was indeed alone and everyone who worked there had gone home.

She raided the desk for snacks, and found a couple of candy bars and some trail mix in a drawer by the checkout counter. Veronica also raided the lost and found. She found herself a decent looking bomber jacket, black and a men's medium but good enough. She loaded the pockets with candy the librarian had offered her earlier in the day. She drank some water from the watercooler by the desks and then settled in for the night in a chair in a secluded corner of the building.

Friday didn't seem to work in her favor either. She walked around town searching out for the supernatural hotspots. Demon bars, vampire nests, magic stores, none of them were there. It could have been possible that they just hadn't been built yet, but every single one not existing? It was a bit too coincidental.

On Saturday after waking up in the library and this time being caught, she quickly went to the last place on her list. She made her way to Cleveland's biggest cemetery and waited until night. She walked that whole cemetery. There was nothing there. No vamps, no demons, not even a tingle of her spidey sense.

"Fuck!" Veronica screamed her frustration. She slammed her fist into the back of a mausoleum. The sting in her knuckles felt so fucking good. She punched and kicked at the stone until it crumbled to dust beneath her fists. Her hands were bloody and her skin was split open but she didn't care.

It felt good to feel that pain because she knew it was real. She just spent the last few days realizing that everything she ever knew didn't exist. Wherever the fuck she was, none of it was real. No magic. No demons. No vampire. No slayers. Nothing.

It was like the universe or God or Gaea or whoever was just giving her a giant metaphorical fuck you. _You don't exit. Nothing important exists. It's not real. Your not real. You've never been real._

But the pain in her knuckles? _That _was real. Her blood sprinkled across the grass? _That was real too. _So were the tears in her eyes.

She just wanted to go _home_.

Veronica stumbled away from the ruin that she had created. She fell asleep sitting back against a tombstone somewhere near the end of the cemetery after crying her eyes dry and her throat raw.

—

_**Ohio, September 21, 1980**_

All of that research, and drama brought Veronica to where she was now.

She'd woken up Sunday morning with a crick in her neck and a pep in her step. She stopped by a supermarket and stole a few things; a bag of beef jerky, a few granola bars, an apple, a bottle of water and a bike. The people in the 80s were so naive, it was beautiful. A smile here and an inner pocket or two and she was all set. She didn't even have to twitch her witchy nose. The bike had just been leaning against the side of the building, not a lock in site.

Veronica quickly rode to the nearest park, ate her stolen breakfast and then set off once again, in the general direction she needed. She had a torn out page from a book with a map of the city of Cleveland. It was marked down with black dots each crossed over in a big red 'X'. All except one spot just outside the city limits. She had one more place to visit before she gave up and turned herself into CPS.

She'd popped up into existence just down the road from the Richfield Coliseum. She figured her last chance at a way home might be there. She didn't really hope to find anything there, she just would regret it if she didn't check anyway.

By the time she made it on the road leading to the Coliseum it was probably a little past noon. By the time she got to where she had fainted it was probably about two in the afternoon. She was able to tell due to the blood stains on the asphalt, probably from when she hit her head.

She hopped off the bike and wandered into the field. She closed her eyes and let herself just breathe. She let herself open up her senses, both Slayer and Witch, to see if there was any residual mystical energy from her arrival.

Veronica had been so caught up in getting back to the fight, to her family, that she hadn't paid attention to her surroundings. A six year old had managed to sneak up on her after all.

She dropped down onto the floor and into lotus position. She kept her eyes shut and meditated allowing her magic to leak into the air around her, searching for something that wasn't there.

She sat there unmoving for a few hours. Until the sounds of cars and music woke her from her trance. The sun had set. And she had felt no mystical energy but her own.

She was truly alone in a non-magical world. But she was done with being a whiny brat. She was going to hop onto that bike and head back into the city and turn herself in.

She was ten years old again and though she was mentally older and fully capable of protecting herself from whatever anyone threw at her, she knew that staying on her own and living on the streets wasn't something she was capable of doing for long.

Veronica walked back to the side of the road where her stolen bike lay. She hopped on and fully intended to ride her way back towards Cleveland. She began petaling and quickly passed the Coliseum. The lights were flashing and music was pouring through the walls. She spotted a sign promoting Queen.

Maybe she could make a quick pit stop before heading into the city. Blow off a little steam first. She had lived with Faith for the past few years, she knew the older Slayer would agree. The Dark Slayer did after all take out a bunch of underaged teen girls clubbing during an Apocalypse. Freddy Mercury was dead in her time. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

She veered into the lot.

—

She managed to sneak in and rock out until the very end of the show. Slipping her way into the standing floor zone and weaving through the crowd as the show went on. She might have pickpocketed a few attendees. It's probably what tipped people off that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. "Tie Your Mother Down" was just ending as a hand slammed down onto her shoulder. She was tugged away from the crowd on the floor as "Another One Bites the Dust" started up. She could still hear the music blasting as she was shoved into the back of a cop car.

She didn't care. It was _so_ worth it.

Authors note: This chapter is more of a filler chapter to get Veronica situated in her new world. Next chapter will get to the town of Hawkins for sure. And definitely more of her past with the Scoobies.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

_**Bordeaux France, March 17th, 2000**_

"Strike!"

Veronica took a step forward, hand curled around her hanbō. Her left foot lead the swing. Her right arm came up and in, supporting the half staff against the line of her forearm and adding more power to her swing. It was blocked.

"Defend!"

Her hands found their proper placement and came up just in time to block a blow that would have come down upon her face.

"Strike!"

She swung the bō low, swiping at his feet. He slid back to avoid it.

"Defend!"

She was slow to block. His staff struck her ribs. Hard. Sending a shock of pain through her left side.

"Strike!"

Her swipe at his side went unmet. He was starting to get irritated now. She knew that he expected a certain level of performance from his student. And he was currently not getting the skill he demanded of her.

"Defend!"

He jabbed the end of his staff into her sternum. She stumbled back, the wind knocked out of her. She clutched at her chest, fingers clawing into her shirt trying to grasp onto something unexplainable. Veronica almost dropped her own weapon in the wave of pain and panic that washed over her. She quickly raised the stick in a halfhearted attempt to block the next strike that came at her.

"What are you doing? Push through the pain. Focus!"

He swung at her again. She managed to throw herself out of the way just in time. "You are a Potential. You must be ready to perform your duties with the skill necessary to defeat the forces of evil." His statement was punctuated with a slash of his staff, it rapped upon the bones in her wrist.

"Do you think that the vampires and demons you will face will take it easy on you? As I have been doing?" He swept her off her feet and onto the floor with a lazy swipe of his bō. "I'd be surprised if you made it a month."

Veronica was used to this speech. Her Watcher was a very strict man. He liked things done a certain way. _His way. _And when his standards weren't met he wasn't afraid to tear into her until they were right.

When she was younger she used to cry when he'd raise his voice at her, or discipline her. She couldn't understand what she was doing wrong. It seemed no matter how hard she tried it was always wrong. It would _always _be wrong because Blake didn't seem to care for her very much. He seemed to actively resent her presence. It didn't seem to matter to him that she was an actual person. To Blake she was just a weapon. Just an extension of his will. So if she was doing something wrong or performing poorly than so was he.

"Get up, you silly girl!"

Veronica was tired, they had been going at it for hours, but she knew that she wasn't going to be allowed to leave the mat or the training room until she had proven her skill to him. She just needed to get him one time and then she was free.

Just once.

She hopped onto her feet with a renewed sense of purpose. "Come now! Strike!" She swung hard, her staff connecting with his. The recoil sent a sharp pain through her fingers but she kept her grip tight.

The intensity of the sparring increased. Her Watcher was no longer pulling punches. He struck at her with a strength he rarely showed in training. He was quick as well. She was lucky that even as a Potential her strength and reflexes were stronger than average, she would have been out ages ago.

_Strike. Defend. Strike. Defend. Strike. Defend. _

"Faster!"

_StrikeDefendStrikeDefend._

"Faster! Strike!"

One hand came to grasp the bottom side of her staff and lead the weapon in a quick jab towards her opponent's navel.

"Defe-"

He dodged the jab but left himself open as he raised his staff doing so. Her bō went out under his armpit coming up behind his shoulder. She widened her stance, planting a foot between his open legs. She leaned forward hooking the staff under her opponent's arm and pulled him forward, tripping him on her leg as she did so. He flipped over head first and slammed his back against the mat. He grunted as he pulled himself up off the mat, his back to her.

"Finally." She could hear the sneer in his voice. She quickly stood at attention, holding her staff to her side and dropping her head down, eyes focused on the floor.

Veronica's Watcher turned to face her. "You will die." He slowly approached her, each step deliberate. She watched his bare feet as he stalked towards her. "You need to listen to me, Veronica." He stopped, inches from her. "Look at me." His hand came up to grasp her chin. His fingers digging into her cheeks as he forced her head up. She stared into his cold eyes.

"You will die a violent and cruel death, Veronica. And you will die alone. You are weak, I can see it in you.

This world is full of Evil and eventually you will be called upon to fight against it. You have the potential to be a great soldier. A powerful weapon. But as of now you are wasting my time."

"You need to try harder, Veronica. You need to be stronger. Do you understand?" She wanted to rage at him.

_What do you want from me? What more can I do?_

She trained and she studied and she fought and she _tried_. Every single day. She had no rest, no breaks, no weekends. She ate, slept and breathed demonology, battle, war tactics, and witchcraft. She knew that she would spend the rest of her life doing exactly that. Nothing but that until she died.

Sometimes she hoped she'd die soon. That she would be called as a Slayer and she would die a quick death at the hands of some random vampire. Just a quick snap of the neck and she would be free from the burden.

"Yes." She swallowed back her anger, making sure that her face showed no outward emotion. She stared into his cold dark eyes. "Yes, sir. I understand."

He released her face and turned to leave the room. He paused as he reached the doorway.

"Happy Birthday, Veronica." He never looked back at her.

_Oh right. _She had forgotten.

She turned eight that day.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, July 25th, 1983**_

Veronica had been in this alternate universe for almost three years.

She had been picked up at the concert back in 1980 and had been driven into Akron, Ohio instead of Cleveland. She had quickly let the officers that had taken her in know that she had no parents or living relatives and that she suggested they called Child Services. This had baffled them a bit but they had done what was asked.

Veronica told these cops that her name was Veronica Lehane, not Hernandez like she had back in Cleveland. She figured that she might as well start new. New life, new name. But she still wanted to take a piece of home with her, so Lehane it was. Plus she had wanted to disassociate her case with the one in Cleveland. So she was now ten year old Veronica Lehane whose parents had died years ago and who had been unofficially living with "family friends" for a few years. She made it all sound really shady, moving around every few months, never going to public school or visiting the doctors, how her parents' "friends" asked her to call them Mom and Dad from the moment they took her in. She implied she had been kidnapped.

The woman from CPS had been horrified. They immediately asked for a description of said kidnappers, she gave them a description of the future "Brangelina" and called it a day. When asked for information on her birth parents she told them she didn't know as she was very young when they had died. They put out a search to see if she had matched any old missing children descriptions. She hadn't. They kept her in a group home near the police station while they made sure that no one would be missing her before they began the process of putting her in the foster system.

Veronica was then officially Veronica Lehane, and boy was that a mind fuck. She had secretly hoped that she eventually would have bore the Lehane name. She just hadn't expected that this was the way it would have happened.

Veronica was officially a ward of the state and she had been put into a group home for a month before she was forced to move on to the next one. She had witnessed a male member of the staff take a fifteen year old girl into a back room, alone. She had then followed faking naivety as she claimed to have been looking for the bathroom. The girl had looked relieved. The man not so much.

He had cornered Veronica, trying to threaten her into keeping quiet. Saying that if she didn't keep her mouth shut that both her and the older girl would be out on the streets. _Big mistake. Huge_. Veronica did not take threats well. Her initial plan had been simply to be there to stop him from acting on his urges. But now he had threatened her. She didn't give a fuck if he thought he ran that group home. She wasn't worried about living out on the streets. She would be fine. She could take care of herself. But the kids in that home could not, and she wasn't about to let him think that he could mess around with the lives of these kids.

_Fuck him._

She broke his wrist. Shattered it really, but that was his fault. He shouldn't have put his hand on her shoulder like that. She told him that he should quit. That no one would believe that she had hurt him because she was just a little girl and he was a grown ass man. How could she have physically hurt him? It wasn't possible. He was gone for a week but came back with a cast on. She didn't like that. So she claimed that he had touched her. Told every staff member that she could. Even roughed herself up a bit.

They believed her.

He was fired and arrested. And she was transferred into another group home. Before she left though, the girl he had actually tried to assault had come up to her. She had thanked her, with tears in her eyes. Gave Veronica a hug and thanked her. And Veronica felt a sense of pride in herself that she had never experienced as a Slayer.

It felt good, saving the world from evil and whatnot but it was a thankless job. The people she saved rarely even acknowledged her work. The whole vampire reveal and anti-Slayer shit just made the public see her as a monster. Yes, she killed things. But they were demons, soulless creatures that fed on human beings, killed viciously and indiscriminately, and ate kittens. She was doing it to protect people and all she got in return was hate.

It wasn't like she needed praise or whatever to do her job. She knew that that wasn't going to happen. She just wanted to be acknowledged every once in a while. She did put her life on the line, after all.

So when that girl came up to her, shaking and crying and _thanked her_. She damn near almost cried herself. She felt like what she had done had mattered for once. That she would be remembered for what she had done. And that she had saved this girl in a way that was more important than all of the demon victims she had rescued put all together.

It was the first time in a long time where she felt like a hero.

So she left that home with a smile on her face, knowing that she could live through whatever it was that came her way next.

What was next happened to be another group home. For six months. It was an all girls home. She had no issue with this one. They just were underfunded by the state, she could tell that they were struggling to keep up with the amount of girls they had already had. She asked her case worker about a transfer it took a couple weeks but she had found Veronica a new home.

She was taken in by a lovely family as a foster daughter. An interracial couple in their late forties. They were both doctors. The husband was a pediatrician and the mother was an OBGYN. They met in medical school. They were kind and sweet and had two older kids that were nice as well. They were genuinely good people. She kind of liked them and for some strange reason they seemed to like her back.

The oldest teen, the son, was to start college the fall after she arrived. At Perdue University. The family was going to make the move with him from Akron to Indianapolis, so they'd only be a few hours away. Veronica fully expected to be sent to another group home but they surprised her by wanting to take her with them. It took about a month of paperwork and petitioning but it happened.

Veronica hadn't been sure how she felt about that though. She liked the family well enough but she knew that she shouldn't allow herself to get attached.

This world she now lived in didn't have magic, but that didn't mean that she was cut off from whatever source had previously powered her own. She still had her magic, she was still a Witch. She still had her Slayer strength, speed, reflexes and healing. She still had that instinct that told her that she had some kind of purpose in being here.

During The Battle,and she felt as though capitalization was required when referring to the event that had brought her here, she had this tight feeling in her gut that she wasn't going to be there after the fight. She had been right about that, just not in the way she had originally thought. She didn't die, she somehow tumbled into an alternate universe. She had actually felt like she had known what was going to happen at least a few days before The Battle.

Slayer dreams were ways in which Sineya and the Powers that Be were able to warn a Slayer of what was to come. Most Potentials began to dream of past Slayers and the lives they lived and the deaths they experienced. It was Sineya's idea of a history lesson. Faith and Buffy had both mentioned sharing dreams and somehow predicting Dawn's creation. So sometimes the dreams were prophetic. They believed the ominous future-y dreams were provided by the Powers.

Veronica wasn't sure if she had dreamed something like that leading up to The Battle, but the moment she stepped foot on the site of the Hellmouth she knew what her destiny held. Sometimes she still got that feeling, that tightness in her gut that told her she needed to do something, or go somewhere.

She had that gut feeling when she asked to transfer from her second group home. And she had a similar feeling when her foster family asked to take her with them when they moved out of state. She wanted to tell them no, that she couldn't be what they wanted her to be. She was never going to be able to be a full fledged member of their family. She had too many secrets that she had to keep hidden. She could never truly open up to them the way they did with her. And that was unfair. They deserved to have someone that wanted to be a part of their family.

She was going to ask them not to bother but as she opened her mouth to object she was suddenly hit with a force of knowledge that she needed to go out of state with them. She needed to be in Indiana. She didn't know why, just that she needed to do it. So she kept her mouth shut.

She let them get their hopes up.

She felt like an asshole.

Veronica had been with them 11 months when they had asked for her permission to adopt her. It was the day of her birthday and they had all been there for her special day. She received presents and cake and then they dropped the bomb.

The hopeful look on the mother's face was enough for her to say yes. She couldn't be so mean to the woman who had tried her hardest to make her feel welcome in their home. She had prepared a room for her, bought her new clothes and bought her a Walkman as a Christmas present when she found out her love for music.

They had actually bonded over their mutual love for music. Veronica had had a thing for oldies in her time. Songs of the 60s and 70s were her favorites. She loved the punk scene of the 70s and Motown artists of the 60s. She had spent a lot of time in her universe sitting around listening to records with Faith and Robin, they'd take turns playing tracks and educating her on good music. The woman was surprised that the little Hispanic girl knew every word to most of the records she played: Marvin Gaye, Mary Wells, Brenton Wood, Al Green and Gladys Knight. She was happy to have someone to share her music with as her own kids didn't really enjoy it much, they preferred their own generation's music.

She had bonded with this woman and she didn't want to be the one to hurt her. She found herself about to say yes, but the Powers stopped her voice in its tracks. She had to tell them no. She did tell them no.

The family had been disappointed but hadn't pushed the issue. They had had other foster children before. They knew that most children in the system had issues. Mental and emotional. They planned to let her stay, work on having her open up to them and asking again when she was more comfortable. She knew that that was their plan. They were the type of people to never leave someone they loved behind. And they had grown to love Veronica. And she couldn't allow herself to love them back.

She contacted her new caseworker and asked to be placed in a group home. She apologized to her foster family, and they said they understood, but they never really would understand the reason behind her decision. She thanked them for everything they'd done for her and offered to give back the things they'd bought her. They refused. They made her take all her cassette tapes she collected, all the clothes they'd bought her and the Walkman they gave her.

Her foster sister even gave her a brand new sketch pad as a goodbye present. The rest of the family gave her colored pencils and charcoals. She hadn't even realized that they had noticed her habit of drawing. It wasn't something she did often, but it was something she had like to think she was good at.

She _really _felt like an asshole.

She moved into a group home a month after her foster family had asked to adopt her. This group home was co-Ed, but was meant for younger children. She was one of the oldest children there at 12. She spent 11 months there until she turned 13 for the second time in March 1983. She was now over the age limit for the group home she was in. But for some reason or other every other group home in Indianapolis was somehow unable to take her in. The surrounding counties were somehow also unable to take her in.

She had a feeling there was a little _Divine _intervention taking place.

She spent another three months in that group home until they were able to find a foster home willing to take her in. She ended up being placed in a little town in the middle of Roane County.

So that brought her to where she was today. Stepping out out of her caseworker's car. They had spent the last couple of hours making the drive over.

She was now the newest resident of Hawkins, Indiana.

_Yay._

—

It turned out that Veronica's new foster parent was a single woman in her fifties. Her name was Marianne Wilkes. She was a short woman, only about 5'1" at best. She was blue eyed and blonde haired, or at least she had been so when she was younger. She had many pictures lining the walls of her house. Pictures of her in her youth, mostly. She had been a delicate looking thing, all dainty shoes and ruffled dresses, pale smooth skin and shiny hair that curled into ringlets.

She looked like a porcelain doll in the photos of her past and she still held herself in the same delicate fashion. Small kitten heels clacked against the wood of the porch as she met them at the wore a simple dress that swished about mid calf as she walked. It was a pale blue. She looked like Julie freaking Andrews.

And it was a far cry from the way Veronica carried herself.

Veronica's body was now currently thirteen. She was almost caught up to the way her body had previously been before she had been de-aged. She was just shy of 5'2" which was awesome because that was actually an inch taller than she had been in her world. Veronica liked to think that her being an activated Slayer had affected her new growth, plus she had a little more muscle in her legs and arms than she had previously had as well. The only reason she would say that she was still not physically caught up to her fourteen year old self was that she was still waiting for her breasts to fully kick in. She had liked where she was at previously and she was still waiting for them to reach that point. She was little more than an "A" at the moment and it kind of made her sad.

Veronica's sense of style reflected what she had worn in the year 2006. She was a grungy bitch and she knew it. She was wearing a pair of high waisted black skinny jeans. She'd actually had to tailor the pants to fit the length of her legs, they were a good four inches too long at first. She wore a loose fitting grey Clash t-shirt tucked into her pants and the same black bomber jacket she had nicked from a lost and found back in 1980. She also wore her black Doc Martens and a black choker necklace around her bare throat. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that brushed across her back as she walked.

She definitely dressed older than she looked, but she couldn't help it. She was not about to run around in the things the other girls her age did. She had the taste of the seventeen year old that she should have been. And though she guessed she should have also had the mentality of a seventeen year old as well, she often found that her behavior didn't match that.

She found that being here in a world without magic and without responsibilities made her feel younger than she had ever felt even when she had lived through her first childhood. As a Potential being raised by the Watchers Council she had never experienced a regular childhood and despite the Scoobies' best efforts her life as a Slayer hadn't been much different. Sure she had been free to be herself, to discover who she really was as she hadn't really known before. But she still had the weight of the world upon her shoulders. She wasn't alone in that burden but it hadn't really lightened the load either.

Being where she was now allowed her the chance to finally be a real kid. She got to go to school. _That _had been a new and fun experience. She had been homeschooled while she had been trained by the Council and she had received her GED after being taken in by the Scoobies. Her peers had been less mature and less emotionally developed than she had been, but she soon found herself to be none too different from them. She had a lot more academic knowledge than her classmates but she had fit right in with the other kids at her school and in her group homes.

She wasn't really sure what that said about her psyche. She chose to ignore it.

Her caseworker left almost as soon as the introductions had been made.

"Well don't just stand there young lady, have a seat." Marianne went ahead sat herself down in an armchair, leaving the sofa open. Veronica left her bags where they had been piled by the door and followed the woman's lead.

"Yes, ma'am." She gently lowered herself onto the cushion, crossed her legs at the ankles and placed her hands in her lap. She was doing her best Princess Diaries impression, she had a feeling Marianne would appreciate the effort.

She did. The woman nodded in approval. "Let's get down to business. This isn't my first rodeo. So let me get through my spiel and then we can move on. Now I don't like to think of myself as a particularly strict person but I do have my rules and I expect them to be followed."

Marianne's blue eyes gazed into her face, searching for something. It unnerved her. She felt like the older woman was stripping back the layers of everything that Veronica was. And judging it. Whether she approved or not had yet to be seen.

"I don't suffer fools." She wagged her finger at the girl. That was good. Neither did Veronica.

"Rule number one. You are to call me Marianne. I don't need the false proprietary and I do not tolerate nicknames. So it is Marianne or Ma'am. Number two. You go to school, without fail. We'll head off to get you signed up in a little bit. Rule number three, you tell me where you are going and when you will be back, and no staying out after ten. Rule four you help out around here. I cook and clean myself but I expect a little help from time to time. And rule five, no boys. Just follow all that and we should be okay."

"You got all that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Any questions?"

"Just, where will I be staying?" The girl walked back toward her bags by the door. Swinging the two heaviest on one shoulder and scooping up the last bag in the other hand. Her bags were really heavy. She didn't want the older woman trying to help pick one up and question how Veronica had held them all so easily earlier.

"Don't worry I have a room for you." Marianne lead Veronica down a hallway passed a kitchen, dining room and a few more closed doors before reaching the end of the hallway.

It was a fairly large room, with a full bed against the far wall with two nightstands on either side. The comforter was a nice shade of blue, dark and fluffy looking. A desk and a few shelves were by the left hand side and a closet with a mirrored door. To the very left of the room's entrance, opposite the bed was a long dresser, with three drawers and a cabinet on either side. On the right side of the room was a tall lamp and-another closet?

Veronica opened the door on the right to reveal a bathroom. _Well that was generous._

"This room was originally the master bedroom. There were two other rooms connected by a bathroom, I've converted one into an office and the other was a guest bedroom. I spent so much time in that office I decided to just knock the wall down between the two."

The Slayer looked back at the older woman. "Thank you." She placed her bags onto the bed before turning back to Marianne. "I really appreciate you letting me into your home. I'll make sure to follow your rules."

"Good." The woman nodded before turning from the room, she paused at the threshold and turned toward the girl. "Come now, we have to get to the school soon before it closes. We need to get you enrolled, pick out your classes and see about getting you anything you need from town as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

—

It turned out that Hawkins Middle School had not received her transcripts from her previous school. They wanted to put her into seventh grade based on her age. She flat out refused. She had already finished the seventh grade the previous year. It was bad enough she had already had to redo a middle school curriculum, she wasn't about to do the same year over twice.

She opted to test into her classes. It would take a couple hours but at least she would be able to leave knowing that she would be taking the right classes come the end of summer. The teacher assigned to her testing, a Mr. Clarke, told them it would take a few hours to administer all the tests. He'd managed to gather the final exams and answer sheets from the finals taken the previous school year. Veronica didn't expect it to take that long. They didn't know her academic level though and she understood the caution. Marianne decided to take the time to head out and get some chores done and pick up some dinner.

The tests were easy. She finished up each exam in under fifteen minutes each. They were just multiple choice for the most part, some fill in the blanks. She was sure she'd passed with flying colors. Math, Earth Science, Social Studies, Language Arts, Spanish. She was an hour ahead of schedule.

She sat patiently while Mr. Clarke graded her tests and took the man in. He seemed like a genuinely nice man. A teacher that actually liked his job. She knew this to be true as he had volunteered to give her her exams, unlike the other teachers who had all looked perturbed at the thought of staying after their meeting had finished. He had introduced himself with a carefree smile and gentle voice. He also had several pictures of his students littered across the room. Winners of science fairs, what seemed to be an AV club, and a class photo of what was probably last year's eighth grade class. He actually cared about his students.

That was rare in teachers. She'd been to six different schools at this point. She'd know.

"Well," Mr. Clarke had settled the last of the exam papers into the pile with the rest. "I'd hate to be the bringer of bad news…" he trailed off.

Veronica stood from her seat, an objection on her lips.

"But, welcome to Hawkins Middle eighth grade class."

His mustache twitched as he smiled, and Veronica let the fight die out of her. He walked out from behind his desk and met her at the desk she had been using. "Wow. You sure did go through those tests pretty quickly. And you received perfect scores!" He grinned at her as she

Veronica let out a little laugh, she really had been scared for a second. Though she knew she knew her stuff, she actually knew stuff beyond this stuff. She just hadn't expected a joke like that from a teacher.

"Yeah, well the tests weren't actually that hard. I'd actually already taken these classes, my transcripts just weren't sent over. I just wanted the problem dealt with as soon as possible."

"I completely understand. I'm glad to see that you were willing to give up a summer afternoon to sit around and take tests at a school you don't even go to yet. That is the kind of dedication to education that I like to see in my students." He held out his hand for a shake. "I'm looking forward to having you in my biology class. Hopefully that dedication stays true."

She accepted his handshake. His grip was firm, as was hers, she respected that he treated her like an adult in that regard. Men seemed to barely make an effort in shaking a woman's hand, treating them like delicate flowers in doing so. And most adults didn't even shake the hands of children, dismissing the sign of respect completely.

Mr. Clarke was good people.

With an awesome 'stache.

"Wicked. I'll see you in class then." Two quick pumps and the shake was done. She quickly scooped up her jacket and waited by the door as he also had turned to gather his things. They walked down the hall towards the main office to give the results to the administrators.

Veronica took in the nice shade of blue that lined the lockers and walls. "Was that an accent I heard earlier?"

That made the girl pause. "Most people don't notice it right away, if at all. I was... raised by a British couple. My accent is mostly American, I'd had some…foster sisters in the beginning. We were all American but once it was just me my accent began to take on some British pronunciations. I also spent a while in a lot of different European countries. My accent likes to switch between a lot of different things." She shrugged her shoulders at an attempt at nonchalance. "I don't have to try very hard for the American, it is my natural accent, sometimes the others slip in on certain words though."

"Hawkins must seem like a big change from all that. You're probably used to big cities, right?" They'd almost reached the office, just one more corner to turn.

"No. Not really. We mostly stayed in the countryside."

She was visualizing large isolated manors, empty except for her and her Watchers. "And so far I like the people here a lot better than those in Europe. Far better."

With that she turned the corner and spotted Marianne talking to one of the office clerks. "Aw. There she is." She waved Veronica over. "Figured I'd come back early. You seem the smart type."

That made her smile.

Things were settled quickly after that. She would be starting school in three weeks and she was free to go.

Her and Marianne made their way back to the woman's car, an old Ford Pinto in a fading yellow.

They turned the corner looping around to head back toward the house. "I don't feel like cooking today. There's a diner not to far from the house. Benny's. We're eating there."

Veronica nodded her head, humming an affirmative. She drummed her fingers along the outside of the passenger door, her arm resting half in and half out of the car.

They'd just reached the train tracks when a group of kids riding bikes rounded a corner she had not noticed was there. Four boys around her age were riding their way, taking up both lanes. Three stayed to their right, the other broke off and rode along the grass on their left.

He was about her age, maybe younger. He looked small, but then again so was she. Brown hair in an unfortunate bowl cut. And as they began to pass each other she noticed his eyes were brown.

His eyes locked with hers and it was like she couldn't breathe. She felt that pull in her stomach, that tightness in her chest. But this feeling was different from the way she had felt when she had been "guided" before. It felt cold, and dark.

It felt familiar though.

He rode on, not seeming to have noticed anything off. She watched him in the side view mirror as he and his friends merged back together. Her eyes stayed focused on his yellow vest as they got smaller in the distance.

This feeling in her stomach was something she hadn't felt in over three years. It was like her Slayer sense had awoken.

Something horrible was coming and that boy was somehow involved.

She wanted nothing to do with it.

The pull in her chest told her she didn't have a choice.


	4. Chapter 4

Trigger warning: bullying and homophobic slur. Just one. Damn, its like I'm really trying to tick everything off the list. my stories are not for the faint of heart.

Chapter 4:

_**Hawkins Indiana, August 14, 1983**_

Veronica had spent the last three weeks getting to know the town. Marianne was actually a lawyer, the best in the county she claimed. Veronica was inclined to believe her. The first time the young Slayer had seen the woman strut down the hallway in a dress suit she felt like she was seeing a different person entirely. Marianne had gone from _The Sound of Music_ to _The Devil Wears Prada. _She looked a lot like Meril Streep had in the movie with her short hair swept elegantly to one side. She radiated strength and competence.

She had spent quite a bit of time in her office the last few weeks, making phone calls, doing paperwork and lawyering in general. She had had to leave the town a couple of times to visit clients or go to court. She was never gone more than a day and for some reason she trusted Veronica alone in her house by herself.

It was a lot of trust to put in a stranger, let alone in the hands of a young teenager. Veronica wasn't one to intentionally cause trouble anyway, plus she was pretty sure she'd really have to try hard to find trouble in a small town like Hawkins. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone and there was hardly any drama besides a little neighborly dispute every now and again, maybe a lost dog or two.

Marianne also made sure to let her know that she had asked the neighbor across the street to check up on her while she was out. Marianne had been gone three times in three weeks, and all three times a neighbor did indeed come over to see how she was. The first two times was a woman in her early forties, a Mrs. Buckley. Just that afternoon she had sent her daughter over. The older teen had done little more than scanned her eyes along Veronica as if checking for physical harm before tossing a "Well, you're not dead," over her shoulder and heading back to her own house. She didn't even give the girl her name. Veronica didn't blame her, she looked like she had just been woken up, her short hair in disarray and dressed in an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts.

Veronica explored the town, visiting the library more than a few times. She'd also had Marianne drop her off in town and bought herself a bike on her third day in Hawkins.

She had tried to get to know her neighborhood on her second day there and soon found that other then the little strip of residential area she lived in, about ten or so houses up and down Kerley, she was surrounded by nothing but woods and farms. So she had dipped into her personal funds to buy herself a bike.

Over the years she had built up a good amount of cash as an emergency fund. She had gathered about two hundred dollars in cash via her pickpocket spree when she first arrived in this universe, the police that had picked her up hadn't searched her nor had they mentioned her little crime spree at all. She steadily grew that fund, she had been a paperboy for a local newspaper back in Akron, she had traded homework for cash wherever she could, and she had mowed more than a few lawns while living in Indianapolis.

She had had about four hundred dollars stacked away and she had used about a hundred of that to buy herself a brand new BMX bike. She had specifically wanted a BMX bike because they were sturdy and made for off road and she had a feeling she'd need something that could take damage incase something happened. She also liked the fact that the frame was all black and that the tires were lined in a nice shade of teal. She had used the thing to ride into town and back and she did not regret her purchase.

On the nights where Marianne was away Veronica would leave the house and spend the night in the woods. The forest separated the residential strip of Kerley and Cornwallis from the fairgrounds. Train tracks ran through the woods but as far as Veronica could tell they hadn't been used in years.

She would pull on her boots, throw on a jacket, pack a backpack and make sure her trusty knife was strapped to her leg. It was almost always on her person, unless she was in the shower or sleeping it was strapped onto her body somewhere. She tucked it under her mattress at night and it stayed there until she dressed again in the morning.

The night before she was due to start school she decided to go for a "midnight stroll." She made her way out of the house and into the woods, headed toward the abandoned tracks. The moon was high in the sky, first quarter, and bathed the path in an erie blue-green.

Any decent Slayer was always aware of the moon cycle and though there weren't any werewolves or other cyclic creatures around it was a habit she hadn't dropped. Veronica still occasionally patrolled the cemetery as well, she hadn't visited Hawkins's yet but she had in Indianapolis and Akron. No vampires either, just her and the regular _dead _dead. She didn't expect there to be anything out there besides maybe some shady people. She just felt comfortable amongst the headstones, it was nostalgic.

She had patrolled with Faith a few times in Cleveland. As a head Slayer Faith wasn't required to patrol anymore, the Minis took on the graveyards and the ones with more experience took on the wiggy cases that littered the Hellmouth. The Slayer just enjoyed an occasional dusting and tagged along when Veronica was scheduled.

Veronica's actual patrolling partner had been Andrew.

Most of the activated Potentials had been older, already in their teens or twenties. Most hadn't been trained by the council as Veronica had but they took to the training and strength relatively easily, at least the ones who had decided to join the New Council. The younger girls were all put into a training camp where they were taught the basics of being a Slayer and about the supernatural in general. Veronica though had been training to be a Slayer since she could walk and talk.

She didn't need anymore teaching, nor did she want it.

So she had been grouped with the older Slayers who all either patrolled solo or in pairs. The others thought she was too young to patrol by herself, but none of them wanted to go with her either. That was fine with her. She didn't particularly like any of the Potentials that had come from Sunnydale anyway. Fighting The First alongside each other had not warmed her to them either. So she was stuck without a partner, she had bullied Andrew to go with her the first time.

She had tugged him by the back of his shirt and dragged him into Giles's office for approval. They said she couldn't patrol alone, not that another Slayer needed to accompany her. Giles had reluctantly agreed that she was indeed correct in that assessment. She had pulled the nerd out of the room and out to a cemetery before Giles had even finished his sentence.

He had complained about being hungry and cold all night. The following night she had thrown him a satchel full of his favorite snacks and a fluffy sweater and had asked him to go with her again. Andrew had smiled and said yes. That night he complained about being bait, but he still showed up the following night anyway.

It had become their thing. They walked along the tombstones and he chatted on about his nerdy stuff and Veronica patrolled. Eventually she came to enjoy his nerd talk. It was why she always patrolled these empty cemeteries with a small smile on her face. She knew that she wouldn't encounter anything there but her own memories. It was easier to visit them in the cover of darkness where no one but the dead could see.

She frequented the graveyards a lot when she lived in the group homes, in the foster home only when she was sure she wouldn't be caught.

_She who hangs out a lot in cemeteries._

The only reason she hadn't visited the one in Hawkins was that she was actively avoiding it. Something about that one boy made her premonition pull-or whatever it was- go crazy. She hadn't been ready to deal with that yet. But Veronica realized that tomorrow she would be starting her first day of school, and so would that boy with the bowl cut.

She couldn't really put it off for much longer. Hence the trek into the woods. She had some things she needed to figure out.

Veronica had reached a point in the forest where the trees had blocked out the light of the moon. She quickly cast a spell.

She summoned a ball of light, wisps of magic in shades of yellows and golds and ambers flowed from her open palms. Between her hands the magic from each palm drew together forming a tight ball of light. It floated an inch above her hand and was the size of a baseball. The strands of light coming from within swirled and moved as though there was some unseen current within.

The spell was silent. It was one that she had used often back in her home dimension, the words had been memorized quickly. The Latin had been essential to her casting before. Invoking the magic in the dead language had been important, it focused the ambient power of the earth's natural magic. Magic in her world had been almost sentient, it heard the spell, read your intent and did what you asked. Here, in this new universe, her magic was different.

She learned that words didn't matter. Neither did elements, natural object, or rituals. She used to have to pull much of the power behind her spells from the things around her, from nature or Higher Beings. Now that there seemed to be no evidence of any of those natural magics existing, she had to power her spells on her own. The power within herself was surprisingly potent. Her intent and her bending her own magic to her will was enough to get things done. Veronica's powers came almost effortlessly. Small things were as easy as a wave of the hand or the snap of her fingers. Bigger things required a bit more energy and focus but she was now able to do things she couldn't have before.

Veronica used her summoned ball of light to help guide her along her chosen path. When she reached the train tracks she let the ball of light absorb back into her palms. She pulled off her backpack, took out a candy bar. She opened it halfway, took a bite and stuck the thing in her mouth, holding it between her teeth as she unpacked the picnic blanket she'd packed. She laid the red and black quilt across the tracks and plopped herself down into a lotus position. She quickly finished off her Musketeers bar and emptied out the rest of her bag onto the blanket.

She pulled out a map of Hawkins she'd borrowed from Marianne, a couple of candles, some rocksalt and a pestle and mortar. Veronica was going to try her hand at alomancy. It wasn't something she had attempted before. She didn't particularly care for divination. It was usually just a bunch of mumbo jumbo bullshit, but even a broken clock is correct once a day, or whatever.

Veronica lit each candle by touching a finger to each wick. She set them around the map for lighting. The rocksalt she poured into the mortar, she ground it down into fine pieces. Alomancy was very similar to scrying, where a crystal was hovered over a map and was pulled toward magical hotspots. Think Charmed. Alomancy used ingredients with magical properties, usually salt crystal or ash. She would toss them into the air and hopefully be able to read something via the patterns it made.

That had been Veronica's original plan, but as magic was different here there was no guarantee that it would work. The salt had no magical properties itself, and there was no ambient magic to guide the particles either.

Veronica rolled up her pant leg and pulled out her knife from its sheath.

There was no magic in the salt but there was magic in her blood.

She brought the tip of the knife to the edge of her palm, right below her thumb, and dragged the blade through her flesh. The cut would heal by morning. Blood welled and she let it fall into the mortar.

She tied a bandanna around her palm and quickly ground her blood in with the powdered salt. She held the hand that wasn't bleeding over the bowl and willed energy into it. Heat waves poured out of her palm and into the bowl drying the mixture and leaving behind red powder, like the finest sand.

Veronica set the mortar down, scooping up a handful of the mix and held it above the map. She closed her eyes and let the sand sprinkle down onto the map, moving in a slow spiral in the air, she willed her magic to seek a similar energy.

When she opened her eyes and peered down as the grains began to pool together toward a single spot on the map.

In the middle of the woods.

_Great_. _More trekking through the fucking forest. She felt like a fucking Hobbit._

* * *

_**Hawkins Indiana, August 15th, 1983**_

Will Byers walked his bike over to the racks in front of Hawkins Middle School. It was his first day of seventh grade and he was nervous. His brother Johnathan told him that the English teacher, Mr. Gursky, always had a pop quiz the first day of class based on the assigned summer reading.

He'd rode to school early in the hopes that he could get in some extra reading. He'd read the book over twice but he'd rather be safe than sorry. He parked his bike at the east racks where he and the Party always left their bikes. When he reached the usual spot he noticed there was another student already there.

Their body was still straddling the seat, boot cover feet straining on their toes as they hunched over to fiddle with something. A dark ponytail swished at their back as they huffed out a sigh. Music poured from a set of headphones around their neck. Fast heavy guitar, loud drums.

"Motherfucking piece of shit."

Will quickly ducked his head as though the words were aimed at him. He tensed his grip on his bike and slotted it in place. He chanced a glance at the girl still playing with something at the front of her own bike. He noticed it was a lock. Which was weird. No one used locks in Hawkins.

As though she could feel his eyes on her, the girl tensed and snapped her head back to look at him. Her brow was furrowed and her lips drawn in a hard line. Will met her brown, nearly black, eyes after taking in her features. She had wide almond shaped eyes. A round and slightly upturned nose, high cheeks and skin a shade or two darker than Dustin's. Will could feel himself starting to blush at being caught staring. Her face softened a bit.

"Sorry, I-" she cleared her throat. "I wasn't cursing at you. This lock just won't-" she looked back at her hands and tried once more. It clicked shut. "Got it!" She smirked to herself before looking back towards him, the smile faded. Her eyes stared at him intensely.

"I wasn't. I-I didn't think you were talking to me." No one really talked to Will or his friends unless it was to throw insults at them. He'd tensed at the words as a reflex, used to them usually being directed his way.

He was a little intimidated by the girl, but he really hadn't thought that she was talking to him.

"It's fine." Will hiked his backpack up and quickly turned to leave. He mumbled a barely there "bye," and headed off towards the library where he would hopefully be able to get in a few chapters before first period began.

He'd just rounded the corner over by the back entrance of the school when he was shoved to the ground. His hands shot out to take the brunt of the fall, sending a shock of pain up his forearms a moment before pain bloomed across his backside as the rest of his body caught up.

"Watch where you're going, Freak!" James Dante stood over him, smiling as Will tried to pick himself up. He'd gotten a leg under himself when he was pulled backwards by his backpack. His feet dug into the ground, his hands struggled to find something to hold onto and clawed out dirt as he was dragged across the grass.

James had come up behind him when he was down. His hands gripped the straps at Will's back, pulling the boy along with the bag. Will let his arms slip through the holes. He was free from the bully's clutches but his bag wasn't.

"Where are the rest of your little freak friends? Finally stop wanting to hang out with a Fairy like you? Huh?" James swung the backpack across his own shoulder. He sneered down at the younger boy as he finally stood. Will dusted off his clothes.

"Just give me back my bag, okay?" His voice came out steady, and he was relieved. His legs were shaking where he stood, and his stomach was tied in knots. He didn't know what to do. "I'm s-serious." There went his cool.

"I-I'm s-s-serious." The older boy scrunched up his face, exaggerated a stutter, mocking the Byers boy. "You're starting to sound like Toothless." James lunged forward and Will flinched back. The move had been a fake. The bully threw his head back in a laugh.

James was the second half of the bullying duo that was James Dante and Troy Walsh. The Party just called them mouth-breathers. Troy was usually the one that started up with the teasing. He liked to toss out insults whenever he passed them. James though, James was the one who started the fights, the physical kind that left Will with bruises on his body that he'd hide from his mother and brother. He liked to try to single out Will by himself a lot. Will never really told the Party and he definitely never told his parents about how he was singled out.

"What's in the bag, Fairy? What's so important you need it back? Huh?" James began to unzip the bag, he pulled out a brown paper bag that had Will's lunch. "Bologna sandwich from Mom?" He slammed the lunch onto the ground and stomped his foot down the center of it before Will could even react.

Will was angry now. He lunged at the older boy, his short arms reaching for the backpack the bully held away. "Stop! Give it back!" Will was pushed back, a simple shove against his forehead threw him off, he hadn't expected that.

James tipped the backpack over, shaking it, and emptying it out all over the grass. "Oops!" He tosses the bag back at Will. "Sorry about that, Fag-"

He never finished his sentence.

A boot had come from the side, kicking James right across the face. The boy went down. Hard.

The girl from earlier, by the bikes, had stormed up to the guy and kicked him across his face. She did some kind of jump kicking out with one leg and landing on the other.

"You homophobic piece of shit!" She walked up to James while he was still down and kicked him again, this time in the thigh.

"Who the hell are you?" The bully rolled away from her and quickly got back up to his feet.

The girl however simply stepped in front of Will blocking most of him from James's sight, she was the same height as him and it didn't cover much. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare. That's who I am."

Will couldn't see the other boy over her high ponytail. The breeze had blown by and her curls ticked against his nose. He took a step back to take in the situation.

The girl- Will didn't know her but that wasn't a big deal in itself because he didn't know a lot of people at Hawkins Middle, just his friends and a few people in his classes. The girl stood lazily in front of him, her back was to him but he could tell that her form was totally relaxed. She wasn't tensed up for a fight, or out of fear, not at all.

James, from what he could see of him, had his hands up in front of his face like a boxer. He was ready for a fight. Will wondered if he would swing at the girl.

"Look," James lowered his hands a bit when he realized it was a tiny girl standing in front of him and not someone else. "I don't even know who you are, okay? Just get out of here before you regret it? You have nothing to do with this."

"Yeah, let me think about that." She brought her hand up to her face, her pointer finger held to her chin and her head shifted to the side. "It's gonna have to be a no for me, asshole." Her hand came down to rest on her hip. "How about you walk away, and I don't make _you_ regret it."

"Can't you ju-"

"Nope." She popped the "P" dramatically. "Not going to happen. Beat it, or get beat. Those are your two options." She huffed out a sigh. "Look you have ten seconds to leave or I start swinging."

She held up a hand and ticked off a finger.

"What now Byers? You gonna let a girl fight for you?!" Will was going to let her fight for him. She seemed a lot more capable than he did. She continued to tick of fingers. "You really are a little girl, you damned Que-" her hand had only ticked off five, not the promised ten, when she closed her open hand into a fist and rammed it into James's nose.

There was a loud _crack._

The boy yelped, his hands came up to cup his now bleeding face. He glared at the girl from above his hands. "You're going to regret this!"

"Well, how exactly are you gonna make me regret kicking your ass? Are you going to tell a teacher?" She took a step towards him. "Tell them the new girl beat you up before class? A girl who's four inches shorter than you and barely weighs over a hundred pounds. If the teachers believe you you'll never live it down when the rest school finds out."

She looked back at Will. "I think you could do that right? Let everyone know how the big bad bully got his ass kicked by a girl."

She raised a brow at him when he didn't answer, making him spit out a quick "yes." She took another step towards James who had at this point curled in on himself.

"There's nothing you can really do without making yourself look bad. 'Cause you're damn sure I'm going to tell a teacher what you were doing that made me fight you in the first place."

She stepped right up to him and grabbed a fist full of his shirt. She whispered something to him, something he couldn't hear. James stumbled back, still clutching face as she shoved him back with both hands.

"You're going to regret this!" He headed into the school's back entrance.

"I'd like to see you try!" She called back after him. "Man that felt good." She did a little hop and rolled her neck around, shaking her arms out in front of her. She turned towards Will. "Did you see that Crane Kick? Classic."

Will was frozen in place and had been since the girl had flown in from seemingly nowhere. "What?" She'd stopped jumping around and took a really long look at him. He had to stop himself from fidgeting under her gaze once again. "Who are you?"

"Veronica Her-um," she coughed and cleared her throat. "Veronica Lehane. I just moved here from Indianapolis."

"Oh." He couldn't really think of anything else to say to that. He just kept playing the fight over in his head. "How did you do all that?"

"Hmm?" She'd been distracted. She dropped to her knees and started to help pick up his things. Will quickly followed. "What? The fighting? I, uh, took a couple of defense classes from Faith back home." She'd stopped moving, her hand had tensed around one of his notebooks.

"Faith? Is that your sister? I have an older brother Jonathan, he's taught me a few things but nothing like that." Jonathan had tried to teach him the basics. Protect the face. Hands up. Thumb tucked under the fist not in it. "I wasn't very good at it."

He'd thrown a punch at his brother when prompted and nearly sprained his wrist. He was really skinny. He'd had no power behind his punch, but what little power he did have just ended up hurting himself. His mother had gotten mad at Jonathan. He wasn't allowed to show him anymore.

"No." Her head was low, her eyes on her hands as she neatly piled up his supplies. "Um, kind of. She was someone that took care of me when my guardians died. I'd already knew how to fight, but she made a point of showing me the Crane Kick. It's from a movie."

"Did she come here with you?" He'd finished dusting off his bag. He'd have to stop by the bathroom or the water fountain to see if he could clean off some of the grass stains. Maybe this Faith could teach him a thing or two about fighting.

"No. She's gone." She handed him back his notebooks and binders. He took them from her and placed them in his open backpack. She sat back on her heels and sat there watching him put his things away. He kept seeing her fist connect with James's face in his thoughts.

"Why'd you do it?" This was something that had been bothering him in the back of his mind. "No one has ever stood up to them before."

"Does this happen a lot?" She'd avoided the question. Her voice was hard when she asked her own in return.

"Not really. James and his friend Troy, they like to pick on my friends and I. I don't really know why, but they're a year older than us so we don't even have any classes together. It's usually not this bad and I'm usually not alone." He was lying.

Maybe she could tell that he wasn't telling the whole truth because her eyes stared into him a while before he spoke again. "He won't tell a teacher, but he'll tell the other kids that your a freak or something. No one will want to talk to you. They'll either be too afraid of James and Troy, or they'll think your a freak too."

"That's okay. I'm a bit of a lone wolf anyway. I don't care what a bunch of people I don't know think about me." They were silent as they finished packing up all his stuff.

"I don't like people who hurt others for no reason. I don't like bullies." She reached over and picked up a book they had both missed. It was his _Dungeons Master Rulebook_. He'd been planning to bring it to Mike, so they could play the new revised version of the game. She brushed off some dirt from the pages and smoothed her hand across the cover. "I guess you could say I'm like a, uh, Paladin who's sworn an Oath of Vengeance."

"You know D&D?"

"Yeah, I know D&D. Um, here." She handed him the book and rocked back onto her feet in a graceful movement. "I have to check in with the office and get my books and stuff. But I'll see you around." And with that she was gone.

And Will was left by himself unsure of what he thought about the whole situation that just went down. He'd noticed that other students had flooded the yard while they'd been talking. He picked himself off the grass when he heard his name being called.

"Hey, Will!" He turned to see Mike and Lucas already walking his way, and Dustin parking his bike at the same rack where he'd left his own.

"Hey!" He ran up to them, swinging his backpack across his shoulders. Dustin caught up with them too. "You guys will never believe what just happened."

* * *

"I'm sorry I still don't believe you."

It was lunchtime and the Party had stopped by their lockers to switch out their books for their lunches. Will didn't mention how James Dante had destroyed his. He just told the others that he wasn't hungry when he exchanged his books for the ones he'd need for his later classes.

Dustin was the only one who didn't believe Will when he told the others about what had happened. Mike believed in Will wholeheartedly and Lucas sort of believed him, he thought Will had exaggerated the skill level Veronica had displayed. Dustin had denied the whole thing. "It was believable until you said she liked D&D, now I know you were just imagining the whole thing."

They'd gathered around a table near the back of the school, close to track field. Everyone else usually gathered in the cafeteria or the basketball courts. So they were mostly alone, there were a few groups spread about but none of them would bother the boys. None of them were Troy and James's group.

"I'm not lying!" He really wasn't. "She came in and totally kicked the crap out of him. You saw him in the hall after second period! He had a swollen nose and everything!" James did have a swollen nose. It was also starting to bruise around one side by his eye too, and his nostrils had been crusted with dried blood.

Lucas decided to chime in at that point. "Yeah, I saw that too." He nodded his head sagely before taking a large bite out of the sandwich he'd brought for lunch.

Will's stomach growled as he watched his friends eat. "I think we'll have to see her for ourselves first though." He talked with food in his mouth, it all came out muffled and distorted but Will was used to this habit of his by now. He understood.

Will had been disappointed earlier when he and his friends had spent the beginning of their first period looking for a new girl that would never arrive. She wasn't in any of their other classes either.

Mike had suggested that maybe she was in the year above or below them. Will thought that she was probably in eighth grade. She was tiny like him, but something about her seemed older.

He'd kept an eye out in the hallways between classes but he hadn't seen her again.

"We'll just keep an eye out, right guys?" Mike had voiced Will's own thoughts. He was good at that. "And we just have to make sure we get to the bike rack early. Incase we don't see her before school ends." He looked directly at Will then. "You did say she parked her bike near ours right?"

Will found himself nodding.

"Then we meet her there." Mike went back to picking at his own food.

Will was about to open his mouth and ask if he could have some of Mikes chips when he was suddenly kicked in the shin. Dustin was sitting in front of him. So he was the culprit.

"Hey!" Dustin waves his hand around in Will's face.

"What?!" Will smacked the boy across the back of his wrist. And shoved his arm out of his face.

"Black pants, dark red sweater, and boots!" Dustin then pointed over Will's shoulder. "We don't need to find her, she's walking towards us!"

Will whipped around to find that Veronica was indeed walking towards their table with a lunch tray in her hands and her backpack hanging from one shoulder strap.

"Stop pointing, you idiot!" Lucas, tugged Dustin's arm down, but Will was sure that she had already seen anyway.

"What do we do?!" Dustin yelped.

"I don't know. Maybe not act like total spazzes?" Mike looked over at the girl too but then just went back to eating.

"Right. Right. Eat. Ignore the girl that just beat the shit out of James Dante. Sure." Dustin went back to his pudding cup and was really subtle about _not_ looking at the girl as she approached_. Smooth. _

"Hey." Veronica had reached their table at that point. Will greeted her back with an awkward wave. She gave a quick half smile in response, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. She eyed his friends warily.

"Veronica these are my friends." He pointed them out as he went. "Mike, Lucas, and Dustin." They each gave her a wave and some greeting or other. Dustin leaned into the table with his elbow, he rested his head in his hand and gave the girl a wide gummy smile and an eyebrow wiggle.

Veronica's lips twitched a bit but she didn't actually smile in response. She nodded at the group before turning to face Will himself. "I didn't get your name earlier either."

Mike leaned into Will, so Veronica could see him too. "He's Will." She nodded in thanks.

"Well, Will. I remembered how that asshole ruined your lunch so I thought I'd bring you this." She bent down to slide the tray in front of him. On the tray was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a carton of orange juice, and a cup of pudding. "I went with the safest choice. They were serving some weird looking thing that was supposed to be meat, I think." She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back.

"You didn't have to! No, I can't take this." He pushed the tray back her way. "You should eat it." She stopped the tray with a single finger.

"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to. And I already have a lunch. So keep it, or I'll just toss it in the trash anyway."

"Thanks." He pulled the tray back in front of him. He didn't like charity. His friends knew that sometimes his mother struggled with money and that he couldn't really afford to buy certain things. They always tried to get him to let them pay for things but he didn't let them often. He may have been poor, and weak, but he had to have some kind of pride to his name.

He was really hungry though so he accepted the tray.

"No problem. I'm gonna head off and go find a spot to eat, but I'll see you guys around."

"No don't go!" That was Dustin, Who no doubt wanted to grill her on her supposed fighting skill and D&D knowledge. Everyone turned to look at him and he sunk down in his seat at the stares.

"Yeah, it's no problem. You can sit with us if you want. We have room." Mike as the de facto Party leader was the one to extend the invitation. Will looked up at Veronica with a bit of hope in his eyes.

"Thanks for the invite but no thanks. I'd like to get in a bit of alone time." She looked to Will. "Lone wolf. Remember?"

Will watched her leave, but she paused first and turned back to them. "What character class are you, Will?"

"I'm a Cleric." Will wasn't sure why she wanted to know. Veronica stared at him for a second and nodded her head as if his answer had meant something more important than what he'd said.

"See you later, Will the Wise." She made a little gesture with her hand as if casting a spell. She pulled on the headphones she'd had hanging around her neck. "Let me know if you need a Paladin's help dealing with anymore stray Kobolds." And then she made her way into the track field and up the bleachers designated to the opposing school, all the way across the other side of the field, away from them. He couldn't see what she was doing, only that she'd sat under the shade of a tree by the benches. All the way at the top.

The party was silent in her departure.

"Okay so I was wrong, she does know her D&D."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Trigger warning: implied child abuse**_

_**Cardross Scotland, June 8, 2002**_

"Yes, now I want you to concentrate on this next part. You've been able to summon concentrated sunlight for a few weeks already but today I'd like you to expand on that, quite literally. Expand the range of the rays, see how bright you can make it. This spell will serve you well when fighting off Vampires."

Veronica watched as Margaret stood up from her seat at the end of the table and went straight for the whiteboard in the far corner of the room. Veronica watched her Watcher wheel the board over so that it was just across the table from the Potential. The woman picked up a marker and circled a few phrases on the board with enthusiasm.

"Meditation and Concentration." She read each phrase aloud as she circled the words with red. "Core Manipulation." She leaned over to the unmarked section of the board and wrote down her next phrase. "Magical Intent." The Watcher recapped the marker and dropped it down onto the desk that separated her from the young Witch.

She looked down at the ball of light hovering between the girl's two hands. The woman leaned over the desk, palms flat against the dark wood and smiled down at her charge. The glow from the orb of light cast a golden sheen over the woman's features. "You have a rare type of magic, Veronica. And I think it's finally time that we begin to hone these special abilities that you possess. Don't you?"

They'd been focusing on the theoretical side of magic for the past two months. Different classes of magic, magic users and power sources and the differences between them, the strengths and weaknesses. Theories on changing spell outcomes without having to physically change the spell itself.

Veronica understood the concept of what her Watcher wanted her to do, she just wasn't sure she would be able to do it. Margaret Price had been training the young Potential in witchcraft for the past year. The woman wasn't a Witch herself, but she had studied Magical Theory for the last decade of her life. The woman had worked with multiple covens across the globe in different branches of magic and specialties.

The training started with basic spell casting. She'd already learned about brewing and magical artifacts from Watcher Blake but the man wasn't as knowledgeable in the magical aspects as Margaret was. The man could have easily taught an average Potential all she needed to know, but he was fairly ill prepared for one that was also a Witch. Therefore the Council thought it best if a different Watcher take over Veronica's magical education, while the regular Slayer training continued with Blake.

The first few months were all about memorizing spells and hand movements, combining the power of the spells with artifacts, rituals or runes and a lot of practice.

_So much practice._

Both magical _and_ physical.

Watcher Blake didn't seem to like the fact that he'd been asked to back off the magical side of her training. He never voiced his feelings, he was too proud. Instead Veronica's physical training was doubled in intensity. She was pushed to run faster and longer, fight faster and better, hours on end until he was satisfied. And he never was.

The magical training also wore her out. It both physically and magically exhausted her. Margaret never pushed Veronica too hard. She always stopped the sessions when Veronica energy seemed to wane.

Blake had no qualms about pushing Veronica past her limits. Often he would seek her out after her sessions with Margaret and make her spar before bed.

Veronica didn't fall asleep most nights, instead she would pass out as soon as she made it to her bed. The exhaustion would claim her before she wanted it to.

The Potential ate like mad in order to keep up with all the training. She assumed that it was some kind of increased durability as a Potential or a Witch that kept her going.

She knew that she couldn't keep it up for much longer. She could feel the ache in her arms even then as she cradled the ball of light in her hands.

She was tired. She'd been tired for the past year, but she could take the exhaustion that raked her body so long as she was able to keep using her powers. The magic lessons were one of the few things in her life that she actually enjoyed.

The power that flowed through her veins and swelled within her chest always made her feel warm. As close to happy as she'd ever been.

She was tired, but ready to try out what they'd been discussing for the past week.

"Yes. I think I'm ready." Veronica gave the older woman a tentative nod.

"Good. I thought so. It's why I came prepared." The Watcher reached into her blazer and pulled out two pairs of sunglasses.

She smiled as she leaned over to slip a pair over the girl's face, making sure they were secured behind her ears and then slipping on her own.

"Okay so let's begin."

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, August 19th, 1983**_

Veronica had never really had many friends.

While under the original Watchers Council she only ever really interacted with Watchers. When she was younger she would train with other young Potentials but they never even spoke to each other. Their Watchers made sure that the contact between the girls was limited to sparring matches only. The closest thing she'd had to a conversation to a child her age had been when they traded blows. A warcry here, a grunt there. That was it.

Her time spent with the Devon Coven had been the first time she'd been in the company of someone that wasn't directly under the Council's domain. She'd spent about a week with the Coven, learning what they were willing to teach her before Giles had come to them for help searching out the other Potentials.

He'd been surprised to find a Potential already in their care, but took it in stride as they both headed out to find the others before the Harbingers found them. Giles had been rattled at having such a young travel partner but found common ground in the few novels he'd taken with him on his trip. Veronica had spent most of the time before Sunnydale reading the novels he'd brought along, finding the pages a lot more interesting than the girls they'd picked up on the way.

Looking back now, Veronica could see that she had been the one that had put up barriers first. The older Potentials had been unfocused and whiny, but it wasn't their fault. They'd been ripped from their homes, told that they were in danger and meant to save the world, and left in the hands of strangers. It was all new to them, even the ones that had had Watchers before. They'd been trained, but they didn't live and breathe under the Watchers Council's eyes. For Veronica it was all old news, been there and done that. She was just bitter that the other girls had more freedom than she'd had. That they had people who seemed to care about their wellbeing training them for battle. She'd found their attitude ungrateful and unappreciative of what they had compared to what they could have had. What Veronica endured for ten years.

Faith had understood that bitter part of her, had recognized it from the beginning. Faith had a similar relationship with Buffy. Faith knew where Veronica was coming from and that allowed the young Potential to open up to her in a way that she'd never allowed herself to with others. Veronica could tell that Faith had a hard and dark past, she could sense it like Faith sensed hers. Like called to like.

Faith had been Veronica's only confidant. She'd found friends in the others, what little of them she'd actually allowed to befriend her. But she could literally count the number of people she considered friends on both hands and still have fingers left to spare.

But that was back in her old world.

Here she was more open to friendly acquaintances. She had friends in the sense that she had people that she had allowed to talk to her. She never allowed them to breach her inner walls though. Never allowed them to breach the surface of her true self.

She hadn't expected to allow anyone close here in Hawkins either. But she wasn't in a big city anymore. She couldn't hide by herself in the crowd. Her tendency towards being a loner would single her out in a way she didn't need at the moment. This was the place where it was all going to go down. She didn't need to be a Cordy, she just needed to be somewhere the original Scoobies ranked. Connected enough to be in the know when anything weird was going on and unacknowledged enough to be ignored when she was the one doing weird stuff.

She wasn't allowed the chance though because she'd been blacklisted before she'd even stepped foot into her first class.

Veronica had been enrolled at Hawkins Middle for less than a week. That first day had set the president of how her social life in Hawkins would play out. To say it was lacking would be an understatement.

No one talked to her. Yes, she was grateful to be spared the effort. But it sort of ruined her plan to stay below the radar.

Teachers tended to take notice when a student is singled out by the entire eighth grade class. And she did mean the _entire class. _No one spoke to her. They all actively avoided her during class and breaks.

One girl actually dropped a pencil and when Veronica leaned over to pick it up and give it back to her she acted like the Slayer wasn't even there. She just sat staring straight ahead, hands balled up into fists as the kids behind them looked on. The girl ended up missing out on taking notes for the rest of that class because she wouldn't accept Veronica's gesture and also refused to ask anyone else.

That was dedication.

She was impressed by the pull that the Neanderthal actually had. When he said that he could make her regret her actions he actually meant it. Too bad she actually didn't give a fuck whether these kids liked her or not.

She was impressed by the effort they took to keep the whole thing going. Whether they avoided her out of spite, solidarity or fear, it didn't matter. Sure, it would make group projects awkward, but it was no skin off her back.

It would have been easier to float somewhere in between, more convenient, but not a necessity. She could play the role of social outcast, a violent one at that. She could pull off the Bender look. She did have a plaid shirt in her closet, maybe she could make herself a pair of fingerless gloves.

The point was, she didn't regret her actions.

She despised bullies and abusers. She hated them with a passion. It reminded her of her time under Watcher Blake and how weak she had been. How she never fought back.

So, yes. She'd fight James Dante again if she could have a do over. Though she would definitely take the time to break something besides his nose though. She wished she hadn't pulled her punches quite so much.

Will and his friends made it a point to seek her out during the breaks. She felt guilty but she avoided them the best she could.

Will seemed like a sweet kid. His friends too. She just knew that he was going to be involved in some supernatural type stuff soon. She had to get a read on him and the situation first.

Veronica, on that first day of school, had hesitated. It was something that she was actively trained not to do. She never hesitated. She was the one that jumped into action at a moments notice. It was Slayer intuition and the lifelong training that had her always at the ready for whatever life threw at her.

She had seen the asshole push Will to the ground.

She'd jumped off her bike and made to jump in and save the boy before anything even happened. It was a Slayer's instinct to protect those who need protecting. But she actively stopped herself from storming in to save the day.

She needed to know who this boy was, what his role in what was coming would be and what he was capable of.

Veronica knew that something supernatural lived within Hawkins. She needed to see if this boy was what she had detected on the map. If the bully attacked him and he was somehow stopped in an odd mystical way, then she would at least know if the boy had some powers.

Will didn't stop the attack. He hunched in on himself under the bully's attention, he flinched at every move the older boy made. And it made her physically sick to just stand there and watch. So she stepped in and defended him.

He wasn't really hurt. He'd just been dragged around a little, pushed a couple of times. It wasn't that bad.

She had vivid flashbacks of Watcher Blake tearing apart her room during routine inspections and how he would grab her by the chin or the back of her neck with tight bruising fingers.

_Not that bad my ass._

She tried to justify her actions in telling herself that at least she now knew that Will was just a normal boy.

She fought with herself all morning until noon.

She'd decided to buy him lunch to make up for her earlier hesitation and create an opportunity to do one last check.

She could hear them before she even saw them. It was her Slayer ability but amplified a little with her magic. She upped the power as soon as she left the cafeteria, weeding through the chatter and keeping an ear out for Will Byers in particular.

She heard a mention of DnD and zoned in on the sounds in that area. She could hear Will's voice arguing with his friends. Apparently there was doubt in the encounter, and of her DnD knowledge which was random. She shut down the super ears and headed toward the direction she'd heard the voices.

When meeting his friends she pretended like she didn't know his name either, though she'd actually gotten a really good look at his class schedule so she actually knew his first and last name, date of birth and school ID number.

While talking to them she decided to do her final check. She hid the glow of her eyes with a slow blink and cast a small glamour over her eyes, making sure that they still looked brown to everyone else.

Her magic was often an extension of herself. In this world it had to be. There was no magic in the air or earth, only within herself. So she'd had to learn to really hone her powers. The lessons with her Watchers really helped in figuring out how to push the magic from her body, sometimes to affect the physical realm and other times the metaphysical.

Souls, magic, auras and energy. These things were metaphysical. There but not _here. _Real but intangible until one willed it so.

She pushed her magic outward, invisible smokey fingers of gold extended out and wrapped around Will. They coiled around his form and sunk into his skin searching for and finding his core. Which surprised her.

Everyone living has a soul, even gingers and even some vampires. But not everyone had a magical core. All supernatural beings had magical cores: Slayers, Demons, Witches, etc. But it was actually quite rare for normal humans to have one. Those who did were usually Witches but some never possessed the ability to become one, not fully anyway. They were just magically inclined. Sensitive. Mediums.

Will had a magical core, but definitely one incapable of actual magic. His core was small and translucent, just barely there, almost on the verge of nonexistent. He wasn't a Warlock or anything but he might have been a Medium.

Her magic brushed against his core. Will visibly shivered but it didn't really register with him. He was definitely sensitive to her magic. He looked at her with open honest eyes. She liked to think that she was good at reading people. He could feel her magic when it brushed his, but he was definitely unaware of its existence.

She'd decided to leave now that she'd gotten her answers and eased her conscience. She'd turned down the offer to eat with them but couldn't resist asking Will what his DnD character was.

She'd chosen the Paladin because it felt the closest to who she was as a Slayer and a Witch. She wondered how accurate Will's own character was to what she knew him to be.

_Cleric_.

Was that his sensitivity? His magic unconsciously declaring itself? Sometimes Veronica just knew things. It was the intuition that came with being both a Slayer and a Witch. Like the way animals knew to migrate or birds to fly. Will's alter ego was a magic user because he unconsciously knew that that was true.

She dropped a few more DnD bombs before she left. She did know the game, at least enough to play, and she didn't like when her abilities were doubted.

She needed to scry for that magic source now that she knew it wasn't Will. His essence was too weak to ping on the map like the one from the night before, there was still something else out there. And she had to find out what.

The rest of the week she'd declined the offers she received from he and his friends to sit with them. Veronica honestly preferred the bleachers and sitting alone, but the disappointment in his face and the curiosity in his friends' made her almost want to say yes.

It seemed even the years below her had also taken notice of her new found social pariah status. The younger years sort of looked at Veronica in fear. Apparently the rumors that spread were a lot more vicious than what actually happened.

The Slayer had overheard some interesting takes on the incident and what had actually happened. There were rumors that Veronica had pulled a knife out on the bully, or that she had just attacked him for no reason at all, or that she just flew at him in a rage shouting in Spanish or tongues or something.

Yes, Veronica was most definitely capable of doing whatever they all accused her of, but it wasn't like she was going to do any of that stuff at school. Not on the first day, at least.

She just saw something in Will that needed protecting.

She could see the kindness Will, and the vulnerability too. And she could tell that it was all genuine. She decided that he wasn't what was coming, he wouldn't be the cause of it at least. She assumed he was probably just going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either that or targeted because he was magically inclined.

Veronica imagined Will going up against a Vampire, or a Werewolf, or a Haxil Beast. It wasn't hard to imagine the carnage that would ensue.

She'd just have to put a stop to whatever was coming before it got to him.

This led her to semi-stalking Will Byers for the rest of that first week.

Afterschool he biked to a friend's house, all of the boys did. She rode back to Marianne's not long after getting to these homes, she didn't want to be caught by the neighbors or the boys. She also didn't want to raise any suspicions with Marianne.

Three different houses in three different days. None of them his. She knew this because she'd never seen an older teenage boy in any of these houses. Will had told Veronica that he had an older brother.

On the fourth day of school, and her fourth day of being a creep, Will was dropped off at school by said brother in an old Ford. She couldn't follow the car without either falling behind or being seen in the car's mirrors. So she just rode home that day.

Which brought her to today.

Will decided to ride home by himself. She followed him at a distance. He rode down Cornwallis and stopped where the street met Kerley. Veronica could see Marianne's place from where she was, Will was straddling his bike just a few feet from where she slept.

He looked both ways at the stop sign before hopping back on. Veronica thought he was probably going to continue down Cornwallis because she knew he didn't live on the same street as she did.

He didn't.

Instead he turned onto a path where the two met. One that was sometimes gated off. He rode straight into the forest. And in the direction she knew that concentration of magic lay.

She'd repeated the little ritual a few times over the course of the past four days. Her sitting alone at lunch came in handy for this reason. Each time the grains tainted with her blood would pool in the same exact spot on the map. It didn't matter the time of day or day of the week. The energy was always in the same exact spot.

The part of the forest that Will just rode into.

Veronica didn't follow him.

Instead she laid her bike by the side of the road, not far from her own window. She walked to the gate, letting her fingers glide across the gaps in the wire as she made her way to the farthest side where the foliage was thick.

Veronica stopped at a few branches blocking a portion of the chain links. She quickly pushed them aside to see two signs strapped down to the gate.

**HNL**

**Hawkins National Laboratory**

**U.S. Department of Energy **

**Restricted Area**

**No Trespassing **

**U.S. Government Property **

"It's the government. It's always the fucking government."

Veronica ran back to her bike, and let herself into Marianne's. The woman was gone at the moment, Veronica wasn't sure where.

She flew through the house and stopped at her desk. She riffled through the drawer and pulled out the map she'd borrowed from Marianne's dining room shelves.

She found Kerley on the map, found Cornwallis, but couldn't find the road that Will had just rode down. She couldn't find a Lab or any sort of landmark within that area of the forest either.

Her map was out of date.

_Rookie mistake_.

The map had been torn along a single side, and apparently that side had held the date of creation.

She remembered him and his friends coming from the same road the day she first saw him, her very first day in Hawkins. She'd been so focused on the _pull_ and Will that she hadn't really bothered with their surroundings.

Her lack of vigilance aside, the road wasn't on the map. So she guessed it was where she would start her search. She wouldn't have the time to find an updated map without raising questions. So she decided she was going in blind.

Veronica emptied out her backpack on the bed, spilling her books and pens all over the blue comforter. She grabbed the mason jar on her dresser, the red salt crystals for her ritual hidden in plain sight. She packed that in her bag, along with a bottle of water and a few other things she'd thought she might need.

She ran outside hopped onto her bike and rode down that same unnamed path that Will did.

—

Veronica was able to follow the road until she found what she was looking for. She'd reached a hill in the road and once she reached the top she found the lab. The building was huge, maybe six stories high, in the shape of a giant 'x'. It was surrounded by barbed wire gates and forest, there was nothing around for another half mile or so probably. There were tanks and satellites everywhere and that was just from what she could see.

It probably had a giant underground secret basement where all the experiments happened. Demon summoning, robo-demon engineering, human sacrifices, animal testing. All that good stuff.

The red salt grains were in her bag but she didn't need them. She _knew_ that this was the place. She could _feel_ it.

Power. _Magic_. Rolling across her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. It was almost like being in the presence of another Witch.

It wasn't Will. She'd watched him ride past the building with ease. Veronica assumed he lived somewhere beyond the woods that surrounded this place. Besides the fact that this power felt too strong to be Will, this feeling wasn't the usual ache in the pit of her stomach that she always felt in his presence. It wasn't that _pull_ from Death or the Powers or whatever.

This was raw magic. A powerful Witch or Warlock.

And they were actively using their magic for something. Veronica could feel the magic pulse and flare out from wherever the source was in the building. It was like some kind of radar. Flaring out. Reaching. Searching.

And the young Slayer-Witch could feel her magic swell in response.

Whoever this was, they were powerful. That or they were using some sort of ritual or object to amplify their power. But this wasn't her old world. There wasn't gems and artifacts lying around soaked in mystical energy ready to be used. This person was Willow level powerful.

Veronica eyed the huge satellite dishes that littered the roof of the compound.

But then again, they were in a government laboratory. It wouldn't be the first time science had meddled where it shouldn't. Maybe they were testing the extent of someone's or something's powers. Experimenting on a magical being or artifact. Using these monster satellites to amplify that reach.

The Witch tightened her hands on the handlebars of her bike. Her eyes glowed gold and a burst of her own magic left her. She willed her magic to seek out that source of power she'd been feeling. She felt it push outward, toward the lab. And then down, _way down._

She couldn't see the inside of the building or even the path her magic took. She could just _feel_ the essence of herself, of her magic, and feel its movement as it searched. She could feel it rush forward and turn and fall with every room in came upon and every floor it descended, it was like being on a rollercoaster; her gut tingled with every sharp move her magic took.

And then she found it.

That thing that she'd tracked on the map, and felt pulse against her skin just a few minutes earlier.

It wasn't an object like she had secretly hoped. It was a person. She could _feel_ their presence. Feel her magical core, really. And it _was_ a 'her'. And she was young. And cold. And scared.

Veronica willed her magic further. She wanted to _know _this powerful being. Know what she was feeling and what she was casting. Her magic brushed across the girl's core.

She saw her golden wisps of magic caressing a core of blue and green. It was all metaphysical but she knew it was real. The cloudy tendrils of blue and green magic, like living ocean water reaching for her own sunlit magic.

They connected.

And another wave of magic poured out from the building. This time it was like a literal wave. Veronica staggered off the seat of her bike. Cold washed over her, and she felt the sting of pain and fear wash over her. Panic bloomed in her chest. Not from her but from the girl in the lab.

She could feel the girl's panic and fear from where she stood. Veronica opened her eyes, just realizing that she had closed them in the process of her metaphysical search. And when she opened them she saw nothing but blackness.

Where she stood in the middle of the road on the hill above the lab, was not what she saw. There was no lab in the distance. No woods around her. No fading sun beyond the tree line.

Veronica could feel the bike's handles beneath her hands but she could see nothing but darkness around her.

She was seeing what the girl saw, she was in her head. She'd wanted to know what the girl's magic was doing. Now she was seeing it through the girl's own eyes.

Growling and clicking rang through the darkness. The girl's head swung to find the source of the sound. Veronica's own head stayed in place. It was an odd sensation to have her vision blur and her view shift without physically moving her own head or eyes.

There was nothing but blackness. Animalistic gurgling broke a moment of silence. The girl took a couple steps back. Black water was revealed at her feet, cold and licking across her bare ankles.

Whatever was in the darkness moved closer. Veronica could hear the water splash in its wake. It growled and whined. It was like something out of an alien movie.

Or something out of a Hellmouth.

The girl bolted. Veronica didn't get a chance to see the thing that lurked in the dark void. But she knew it was a demon. The girl ran and Veronica tightened her hold on her bike, anchoring herself to her physical body as her mind explored the girl's.

The growling was getting louder. Veronica could feel the panic and fear rise. The girl had been scared when she'd heard what was in the dark, but as it chased after her it became unbearable.

Veronica heard her heartbeat loud in her ears, and at this point she wasn't sure if it was hers or the girl's. Her breath came short and she wanted to run herself, but she locked her body tight, not wanting to run off into the forest blindly as her mind ran from the demon with the girl.

It was all so confusing. She couldn't tell the difference between herself and the girl. Was it her fear? The girl's panic? Both? Neither? She needed out.

She tried to focus through the confusing tangle of emotions and thoughts. She gathered her magic. Those wisps of golden light that had fused with the girl's cool core and _pulled._

She could hear the girl's screams. She could see that she was no longer in that dark void. But she was now surrounded by water. Murky water, bubbling from the thrashing and screams. She wasn't sure whose screams they were.

She was still in the girl's mind.

Veronica yanked at her magic again as they both screamed. White hot pain shot through her head. Like someone was driving a stake through her skull.

Their cores had wrapped themselves around each other, their individual auras of magic creating a beautiful marblesque orb. Separating the two halves was painful. They clung to each other as she pulled.

As she detangled their minds the connection between them was still open. Some of the girl's thoughts filtered through to Veronica along with the emotions. It was all garbled Russian and English she couldn't make out most of it. The only thing she could make out was one word repeated over and over until Veronica finally pulled free completely.

_Papa!_

Veronica snapped back into her own body. She dropped the bike and opened her eyes to bright lights. She screamed, or she continued to scream. She didn't think she'd ever stopped screaming in sync with the girl in the lab.

She threw her hands up to block out the blinding lights.

—

_**Cardross Scotland, July 10, 2002**_

"Brilliant, Veronica. Absolutely brilliant!" Her Watcher laughed with glee as she stood behind her, watching as Veronica shot beams of sunlight from her hands. The rays were so bright that the two were both wearing solar viewing glasses to shield from the brightness and possible radiation. Her Watcher was even wearing a special vest to block out radiation.

Over the course of the last month the two had made great progress with the sun spell. Veronica was now able to manipulate the spell in a multitude of ways: summoning a ball of light, manipulating the shape and reach of the light, generating heat, increasing the intensity.

There'd been several different experiments but this one was actually kind of exciting to the Potential. Veronica was projecting powerful rays at different panels designed to absorb different frequencies of light while her Watcher went around the room with a thermometer and a radiation detector.

They'd been going at it for about two hours. Testing the limits of her control. Raising and lowering the temperature and radiation levels. Testing her focus and concentration while holding the spell. And seeing how long she could keep it going.

It was reaching the ten minute mark.

Her heart was beating fast and she felt warm all over. Not _hot_ as in she was boiling her insides- _it was a legitimate fear- _but like she'd just run a mile in the middle of the night.

She looked like she'd just ran a mile. Sweat made her curls stick to her face and the nape of her neck. Her breathing was starting to become ragged and her limbs were beginning to tremble.

She didn't know how much longer she could hold it for.

"Amazing! Absolutely no detection of radiation output or rise in temperature. It's as if you're doing nothing at all. You've really gotten a handle on your control."

The praise almost made Veronica want to smile. Almost being the operative word. Though she liked Margaret enough, and the woman was kind to her, she knew that she could never trust the woman completely.

Margaret Price saw the bruises that littered her body. She noticed the way she'd half drag herself upstairs to bed every night. She knew why Veronica's face would suddenly go blank and her speech became monosyllabic when her fellow Watcher entered the same room as them.

Veronica noticed that the woman made sure to be extra kind to her after she'd witness proof of Blake's malice. But she also noticed that the woman hardly lost any sleep over what she saw on a daily basis.

She knew that Blake hated the girl but she knew that there was nothing that she could do.

She was considered a Junior Watcher. The only reason that she'd been assigned to a Potential was because Veronica was special. Margaret just happened to write her dissertation on Magical Theory and had a degree in several science fields that tied in with the subject.

But at the rate the Veronica was progressing she wouldn't need much guidance in the magical portion of her training for long.

Margaret knew that she reported to Blake. He was a senior Watcher and had trained several Slayers previously. Successful Slayers. He was trusted by the Council. He was a traditionalist. And he made sure to only physically harm her while they were on the sparring mat.

Margaret couldn't claim abuse when it was hidden behind training, Veronica knew that. She still wished that the woman would interfere. But she knew that she couldn't, not without losing her position.

_And of course her job was more important than the well being of a child. _

No. Veronica wasn't bitter about it at all. The only reason the young Witch even remotely agreed with Margaret's silence was that if the woman was fired Veronica would be alone with Blake again.

The Witch didn't want that. Not at all. So she accepted Margaret's kindness with a grain of salt.

Veronica shook her head, trying to physically clear her mind of her thoughts. The brightness of the beams had dimmed a bit due to her lack of focus. "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

Veronica could see her Watcher fiddle with the strap around her neck. "Alright, you're right. I think that's enough for today." Veronica reigned in her power, letting the sunlight sleep back into her palms. She let her arms drop as soon as her Watcher gave her the okay.

"Beautiful. That is the longest one so far." She took the stopwatch from around her neck and showed the screen to the girl.

**15:38.07**

"Fifteen minutes and thirty eight seconds." The woman slipped out of the vest and began to fiddle with the monitors connected with the panels they'd used as targets. "I'll go over the data tomorrow morning."

Veronica took the time to wipe the sweat off her face. She grabbed a water bottle from the table in the corner and poured half the thing down her throat and the rest across her head. The chill of the water cooled down her flushed skin and quenched a thirst she didn't even know she had.

She grabbed the towel she'd brought down with her and patted her face dry. The towel was plush. It reminded her of her blankets. She couldn't wait to go to bed.

"Veronica?"

The Potential pulled the cloth away from her face so she could see her Watcher. "Yes?" The woman had set everything down on the table next to Veronica's things.

"I just wanted to say that I'm proud of your progress. This was all just theoretical. Witches three times your age couldn't even dream of attempting the things that your doing right now. You'll be ready to use this out in the field in no time at all."

"That's good to hear." Both women froze at the sound of a third voice. They both looked toward the stairs to see Watcher Blake standing at the bottom of the steps.

"Why is that?" Margaret turned to fully face the man as Veronica turned her back to them both.

"Excellent question, Watcher Price." Veronica could hear his trademark Oxfords tap against the concrete floor as he made his way further into the room. "It seems that there are Vampires in town."

Veronica could feel her whole body go tense.

_No. _

She wasn't ready yet. Sure she had the spell down but that didn't mean that she was ready to actually put it in action. She was ten. _Ten. _How was she supposed to fight off a real life Vampire and survive? And he'd actually said 'Vampires'. _Plural_.

"You can't mean that!" Margaret shouted at the man. "She hasn't- she can't! We haven't tested her ability to perform the spell under pressure yet! And- and there are too many variables unknown! We need to see whether she is capable of casting during a fight! How she does with moving targets, multiple targets! No! She- _we _need more time."

"Well we don't have any time left. There have been four bodies found, completely drained of blood and experienced post-mortem tearing at the jugular. The victims were all abducted not too far from each other, meaning that they were most likely attacked near the Vampires' feeding ground. Four bodies in two nights and those are just the ones they found missing in Cardross. I haven't even checked the body count from Argyll or Bute." Blake's whole speech sounded like a sneer, she could picture his scowling face narrowing his eyes at her turned back.

A hand clamped down onto her shoulder. Roughly. "We leave in an hour. I believe they're hiding out in St. Peter's Seminary. The place is exposed to light during the day, no walls, so I don't believe they're nesting there. It's just where they like to feed. We go now while we know where they are."

There was more arguing about the pros and cons but Veronica blocked it all out. She knew she was going regardless of what Margaret said. The woman wasn't in charge here. Blake was. And he'd already made up his mind.

"I'll do it." Both of the adults stopped fighting with each other and turned to stare at her. "There's no other choice, right?" She looked the man dead in the eye. "I'm going to die anyway right? A painful and cruel death? Might as well be now. Get it over with."

This would be the first time she'd put any of her training to actual use. She wasn't sure she'd survive the experience. But Veronica would fight with all she had. Of that she was sure.

Blake matched up the stairs and went off to prepare the car for the hunt. Veronica stayed behind with the female Watcher as she watched him go.

"You don't have to do this. There is no way he ran this by the Council. I can call them and-" Margaret reached out to the girl to calm her, console her, whatever. Veronica wasn't going to let that happen.

"Don't bloody touch me!" She flinched back from the woman's hand. "You can't do shit!" She practically spit the words at the shocked Watcher.

"I'm only trying to help you." The woman held her hands out in front of her, placating the girl.

"Yeah, well don't. You only make things worse. You see how he takes it out on me when you try to help. I can see the guilt in you eyes every time you see a bruise or a cut. You coddling me only makes it worse. How fucking niave can you be?!"

"Hey! Don't talk to me like that." The woman pointed her finger in the girl's face, a reprimand.

"Then stop acting like a child. Your actions have consequences, consequences that affect others. The bruises that you like to stare so sadly at? Those are the results of your actions. You trying to tell Blake 'no'? Only made him rejoice in his decision even more. But that's fine. I don't need to be coddled by you. I don't need your protection. I'm not a child. I'm a survivor. I've survived ten years with the Devil. A few low level Demons can't beat that. Either I slay these Vampires or I die trying. I win in either scenario."

The woman was speechless. Veronica was wasting time arguing with her anyway. She had a fight to prepare for. She rushed up the stairs but paused at the top step.

"Watcher Price?" The woman looked up at her with wet eyes. Veronica hadn't called her by her official title since the day they'd met. She could tell by the look on her face that the Watcher knew what that meant. The relationship would be professional from there on out.

The older woman cleared her throat before answering the Potential. "Yes, Miss Hernandez?"

"I hope you sleep well tonight."

—

She didn't.

She didn't go to bed at all that night.

Not until the two came back from the hunt. And even then she couldn't find it in her to actually sleep. Not when she kept seeing the image of the Potential reentering the house behind her eyelids.

Dressed in dark clothes from head to toe. Clothes torn all across her body, blood soaking the front of her shirt, or what was left of it. Blood smeared across her face and on her hands. Hair short and uneven and muddy, like it had been viciously hacked off during the fight. A large nasty looking wound at her base of her neck, where her throat met her clavicle. It was half torn and half bubbly like she'd been shredded apart by claws and branded in the same spot.

She looked like she'd just walked out of a massacre. Six Vampires, she'd later learned. The girl had fought off six vampires, only taking out half with the sun spell they'd been practicing. And she'd only used the spell as a last result.

She'd used it to finish them off when they'd had her pinned, quite literally, to the edge of an open stairway dangling head first off the third floor.

But it wasn't even the blood or the wounds that kept her from sleeping. It was the dead look on the girl's face. It wasn't the carefully blank mask she always wore around Watcher Blake, it was just empty. Void of everything that made her Veronica.

It was the dead expression and the bright glowing golden eyes that stared her straight in the eyes.

Those eyes haunted her sleep.

She filed for a relocation not long after the incident.

She wasn't missed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hawkins Indiana, August 19th, 1983**_

Veronica threw her hands up to block out the blinding lights.

There was a screeching of tires, the blare of a horn and the smell of burnt rubber filled her nostrils. A car was coming at her, trying to stop but still driving straight at her.

She threw herself to the side, dived off the road, twisting her body into a somersault and expected a solid landing. She would have stuck the landing, only she was on top of a hill. She rolled down the side, rolling over rocks and branches as she went. Smashing into a tree trunk, she came to a stop.

_Owwwwww!_

She just laid there, letting her body and mind settle for a moment. Her head stung, but she knew it wasn't from her tumble down the hill.

Her mind hurt, throbbed behind her closed eyes and all through her skull. She'd never done anything like what she'd just done before. She knew that mind reading could be achieved using spells and rituals, artifacts too, but this wasn't just hearing thoughts. She'd seen and felt. It was like she was physically there, wherever _there_ was.

She'd been riding passenger inside that girl's body but it wasn't possession. She was in that girl's mind, she couldn't control anything but she experienced everything the girl did. It wasn't something that she'd ever even heard of before.

She was starting to feel like she was in over her head. And she knew that she _was._ She'd never had to deal with a Big Bad on her own. Little baddies, yes. The type that were easily slain on a patrol, no complex plots, no ulterior motives besides "because I can". And when she was involved in large cases it was never alone. She was a soldier she took action when it was needed, she wasn't an idiot, she just hadn't needed to play this role before. That was a Senior Slayer type of thing. Buffy and Faith and the original Scoobies.

_Where was Giles when she needed him? Or even Andrew, her nerdy Watcher in training. _

"Gone." It was a throaty whisper, half choked and extremely raw. It wasn't emotion. She missed her makeshift family but she'd long ago accepted the fact that they _were _gone.

It wasn't emotion, it was the ache in her throat. Dry and shredded raw from her frantic screaming. As though she'd been doing so for hours and maybe she had been because when she opened her eyes they sky was dark.

She could see the glow from the car's headlights in the corner of her vision. It painted the trees above her in an erie yellow light. It made her eyes hurt just looking at the bright contrast between the pitch black sky and the bright yellow trees.

A burning sensation in the back of her eyes, she could tell it was from her little mind excursion. Whatever it was that just happened, she didn't want to experience it again. Not anytime soon at least.

Veronica could hear music coming from above, along with a stream of curses. She turned her head to look up at where she'd just fell from only to see a figure clumsily making its way down to her.

"No. No. No no no. Don't be dead, please don't be dead." She could hear the guy panicking to himself as he neared her. "Shit! My parents are going to kill me, I'm going to go to jail-" Veronica toyed with the idea of actually playing dead with the guy but decided against it. His voice was getting seriously high with his anxiety.

She cleared her throat a couple of times before she could fully make out the words. "Not dead, dude." She waved a hand at him, still sprawled out in leaves and dirt. Her voice was hoarse.

"What the fuck!?" The guy, a teen actually, stumbled to a stop a few feet away from her head. His white shoes were visible even in the dark. She squinted her eyes as she looked up at him. She wasn't exactly a good judge of height being short herself, and currently in pain, and in the dark and viewing him upside down, but he was taller than her that was for sure.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He leaned over her with his hands on his hips. She couldn't see his face, he was nothing but a black silhouette against the yellow of his headlights, but she could guess that it was most definitely pinched in anger. "I could have killed you! Standing in the middle of the road in the dark! Who does that?!" He tossed his hands up in the air to emphasize his point. The outline of his head shifted, hair probably falling into his eyes.

His voice grated on her nerves. She ached. Body, mind and soul, all just a big ball of ache. She was tired. From the magic, the fall and the stupid fucking Fates that kept fucking with her destiny. She had enough to deal with as it was. She didn't need this random asshole to tell her how stupid she was. She knew how stupid she was acting, better than anyone.

"Oh, _fuck off!_" Her voice came out clear that time.

She could hear him splutter at her words. "_Excuse me?!" _He hadn't expected that response. _Well good. _She hadn't expected to be ran off the road. You get what you give.

Veronica's hands gripped the rough bark of the tree she was against, she used the hold to help pull herself up into a sitting position. Her temples throbbed, but it wasn't going to stop her.

"I said, '_Fuck. Off.' _I'm not the only one at fault here. I was standing in the road, sure, but it's not like I just threw myself into your way all of a sudden. And I was at the top of the hill, you had your headlights on, you should have seen me standing there before you even got close. What were you doing that kept your eyes off the road? Hmm?"

"Pssh! What!? Don't turn this around on me." He waved a hand around to emphasize his words. "I'm not the one who was standing in the middle of the woods like some weirdo!"

"No, you just drove out of the fucking woods like some weirdo. Where the hell did you even come from? There's nothing beyond the lab but woods, I could see that from the top of the hill! Why were you wandering around the forest in the dark?!"

"I didn't come out of the woods, I was at the quarry. Not that it's any of your business." He was really starting to get frustrated. He threw his hand up with a little groan. "You shouldn't even be out this late. What are you? Like nine? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

She half hugged the tree during his little fit, pulling herself up so that she stood at her full height. Her head swam. Little spots of color littered her vision. Dots of reds, greens and blues rained down across her view but that had nothing to do with her mouth.

"Oh, wow that hurt. 'Past my bedtime?' That was a good one, real original. Why don't you just jump back into your car and crawl back into whatever skirt you've just finished chasing. Bet she wasn't really satisfied with the two minutes she just received."

She could hear him mutter to himself. "What the fuck?"

She let go of her hold on the tree. She was still seeing spots but at least it wasn't getting any worse. She'd be fine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I kind of have some shit to take care of."

Veronica had every intention of marching back up that hill and doing….. _Something_.

She didn't have a plan but she knew she had to do something. That girl in that lab, that Witch, she was in danger. Those people, those _scientists, _were all pieces of shit that were using that girl for something _bad. _

She could feel the hair raise at the back of her neck. That monster in the dark, that demon, was part of the reason why she was here.

And she'd do something about it as soon as she got back up that hill.

She pushed her way past him, which didn't really make the impact she wanted because she was like a foot shorter than him and was barely able to put any force into the action.

She felt him turn with the motion. He called after her as she ascended the hill. "Hey! Watch it!"

Well, she _attempted _to ascend the hill. She'd grabbed onto a root to help her pull herself up the slope and the thing came loose. She could feel herself falling backwards, she prepared to hit the ground again.

Instead she fell into a pair of waiting arms. Before she knew it, she'd been scooped up in a bridal carry and they were already halfway up the climb.

"What are you doing? Put me down! Now." She didn't really fight his hold. She knew she wasn't in the condition to make it up on her own. She'd just had to let her objection be known.

She was just petty like that.

She really didn't enjoy being carried around like some child though. She was physically thirteen, and mentally somewhere between that and seventeen. Maybe. Sort of?

Besides the whole age thing. She was a Slayer. She was supposed to be this super strong, almost indestructible being. Super healing, super reflexes, strength, agility, all of that stuff.

And here she was in the scrawny arms of some random teenager, barely able to walk and definitely magically exhausted.

She was better than that, than _this._ Or at least she had been. She hadn't exactly kept up with any of her training while she'd been off world. There hadn't really been a need before the past month.

That was going to have to change.

She couldn't do anything in the condition she was in. She couldn't break into a government facility. She couldn't slay a demon. She couldn't save anyone.

_Not right now. _

So she let the teenager carry her without too much of a fight. She let some of the tension and anger that had built up fade from her system

"You're lucky I don't drop you. You're, like, really harsh. And look at me, bruised ego and all, still helping out the little damsel in distress."

How dare he?

Veronica Lehane-Hernandez was no _damsel. _

"I will literally stab you." So the anger hadn't dissipated fully.

"What?!" He laughed out as they finally reached the top. His breath tickled her ear. She swatted at him in retaliation.

"Alright, we're at the top. Put me down already." He set her down none too gently, before making his way to his car. He didn't even look back at her.

His car was parked on the crest of the hill. It took up two lanes as he'd apparently swerved into the other lane in his attempt to avoid hitting her. The driver's side door was open. The radio was still on, Stevie Nicks's Stand Back filtered from the car. His headlights were still on, blinding her yet again.

He didn't immediately get back in the car. He went around the passenger side and picked up her bike. He opened up one of the back doors and began to shove the thing into the back seat.

"What the hell are you doing?" She stumbled over to the hood of his car.

He didn't look back at her, too focused on getting the bike's wheels to stay in a certain position. "I'm driving you home. You can't ride a bike like that. You'll fall right over or really get hit by a car or something. I don't need your death on my hands."

"Yeah, I get that. But be gentle. I bought her myself. Mommy and Daddy didn't pay for my wheels." She couldn't stop the words from slipping past her lips, nor did she try.

She could hear him groan from in the car. She could tell that she was really working him up. It was entertaining. She hadn't had a good banter since the last time she saw Spike and that was _years_ ago.

"Yeah well, self bought or not-" He re-emerged from the car and shut the door before the bike tried to spill back out. "-it's still a piece of shit."

He looked back at her with a laugh. "Holy shit! You're bleeding." He gestured at his own face.

"What?" Veronica brought her fingers up to her forehead. Nothing. She slid her hand down the bridge of her nose. Once she reached her upper lip she knew where it was coming from.

Blood was dripping out of both nostrils. She whipped at her mouth with her sleeve. She pulled at the shirt so there was a little bit more material she could ball up around her hand. The shirt shifted around her small frame as she did so.

She pulled the sleeve back from her face. The grey material was now a mix between brown and red. She waved a hand at the teen for a confirmation. She just wanted to know that she wasn't actively leaking blood down her face.

He wasn't looking at her face though. Instead he was staring at the exposed skin of her neck. It wasn't in a creepy way, more like a worried way.

Veronica rolled up her bloody sleeve and brought up that same hand to brush her fingers along her neck. Her fingers brushed across the expanse of scarring she'd received during her first Slayer related hunt.

Thick jagged lines, five parallel to each other, started at the neck and worked their way down and then suddenly jerked sideways once they reached her collarbone. She vividly remembered the pain that the clawed hand had caused, how it almost ripped the skin right off her body. How she'd been able to see bone through the gouges. There were burn marks throughout the wound as well. She'd cauterized the wound with her glowing hands, trying to melt the skin back together in order to stop herself from bleeding out.

It was crude and it hurt like hell. But it saved her life.

The scars were usually hidden by a constant glamour she held, but apparently she'd dropped the spell during the weird mind meld with the girl in the lab.

"Are you okay?" He cleared his throat. She could barely make out his features because the lights were still shone in her direction but she could hear the pity in his voice clear as day.

"I'm five by five." She narrowed her eyes at him. Daring him to object.

"Good. That means 'everything's okay,' right?" He averted his eyes, looking towards the lab in his play at avoiding the ice in her gaze. "I had a Grandpa who fought in the war. He won. Um yeah, so point is he bought me these Walkie-Talkies and he taught me the lingo. 'Over and out,' 'copy,' 'five by five,' all-"

He was babbling. She interrupted him. "It happened a long time ago. I'm over it. Let's just get in the car so you can drive me home and this day can finally be over."

"Yeah, let's do that."

Veronica slid her backpack straps off her shoulders and made her way to the passenger seat.

He was already in his seat fiddling with the radio when she closed the door and settled in.

"Oh. It's Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington."

_Harrington. How pretentious._

"I _literally_ couldn't care less. Just head that way for like five minutes and it'll be the very first house you see."

"Right. Okay." Steve nodded his head once and then they were off.

She just wanted to go to sleep.

They'd been in silence for all of a minute before he spoke again.

"Soo, you're not gonna put on your seatbelt?"

"Oh my Goddess! You're such a fucking dork. Just drive!"

—

Veronica eventually stumbled out of the car once they got to Marianne's. She left the car without so much as a goodbye. Just dragged her backpack out of the car with her and headed for the door.

She figured Harrington would unload the bike. She didn't wait to watch. Though she did hear him mumble to himself under his breath.

She reached for the knob of the front door and realized she hadn't actually locked the door on her way out before. She then realized she never left Marianne a note either.

The woman was kind but strict. She didn't have many rules and Veronica just broke an important one.

The handle gave way easily. No need for her to dig out her key. The house was dark. No lights, no sounds. Nothing.

She entered the house, leaving the door open, still hearing the teen complaining about not being a butler. She ignored him as she made her way into the kitchen. She flicked on the light and noticed a little folded piece of paper on the center of the island.

Marianne would be gone until Sunday afternoon. Apparently the woman had a client in Illinois that she had to deal with.

Veronica made her way back outside. Clicking on the living room light as she went. She stood on the porch as she watched the boy bring the bike up to the house.

"Are your parents home?" The light from the house illuminated his face. It was the first time that she'd actually seen his face in full. She was able to make out the details now that the only source of light wasn't being shined in her eyes.

Tall, wide shoulders, trim, typical 80s big hair. Brown eyes, straight nose, chiseled jawline. Pretty. But not too pretty. If that made sense.

"Foster parent." She waved the paper around. "And no, but she left a note."

He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like "well at least you got a note." She twitched a bit but otherwise ignored it. She often heard what she wasn't supposed to hear.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She wasn't okay. And she knew that _he_ knew that. But she wasn't about to admit it out loud.

"Mhmm."

"And you're okay all by yourself?" He stared up at her with intense searching eyes.

_Ugh_.

She kind of just wanted to yell at him again but she knew he was being serious when he asked. He could have dropped her off and not looked back. Hell, he could have left her there in the woods. He was being kind and she had a feeling it wasn't something he did often. So though it bugged her she answered him honestly. Or as close to honest as she could get.

"I will be." She wasn't okay at the moment. Not in the way he meant. But she would be once she got some sleep and got her shit together. She would be okay again once she had a plan.

But first sleep.

"I'm just going to go to sleep. I'll be fine."

"No more woods?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Tucking his hands under his arms as though to warm them. He raised a single brow as he looked at her.

"No more woods. Today." This was all that she could promise.

He rolled his eyes at her words. But she could tell that he knew it was the best he'd get.

"Fine. Just go inside already. It's freezing out. It's past your bedtime." He shooed her towards the door.

Instead of responding to his teasing in kind Veronica thanked him and then promptly shut door before he could respond.

She quickly made her way to her room. She haphazardly undressed and her fingers trembled as she unlaced the knife sheath from her leg.

She usually slept in a t-shirt and shorts combo that she kept in her dresser, but she paused as her hand met the drawer. Her hand was tinted red with her blood and dirt was under her nails. She looked down at her other hand and found it was just as dirty, but her eyes strayed from the grime and settled on her wrist.

009

The drop in her glamour had revealed all that she kept hidden. The tattoo was something that she rarely even thought about. Out of sight, out of mind. And she'd kept up an almost constant glamour since she'd landed in the 80s.

She looked into the mirror on her closet door. Saw the dirt on her skin, the leaves in her hair, the blood on her hands. She was bone tired but she needed a shower first.

It was quick. The water was as hot as she could make it. The steam was so thick she could feel it fill her lungs as she breathed. She started with her hair. Watching as little prices of leaves and dirt washed down the drain. After wringing out the conditioner she allowed herself a single minute to lean against the wall and just let the scalding water flow down her back and drip down her face. She counted the seconds. Then she practically scrubbed her body raw and she was done.

She knew that she really should map out some type of plan or whatever. She could barely keep her eyes open at this point though. It could wait one more day.

She dried off her hair and dressed. She lazily brushed her tresses. She knew the horror it would be in the morning without brushing it.

Veronica fell asleep as soon as her head, still wet, hit the pillow. Tremors wracked her body as she slept.

She didn't wake up until Sunday afternoon.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 6th, 1983**_

"She's been at it for the last two weeks." Lucas pulled the binoculars from his eyes and handed them over to Dustin. The boy had been swatting at Lucas's shoulder for the last few minutes. It was his turn to be lookout.

Will looked up at his two friends as they both spied on Veronica. He wasn't really comfortable with the fact that the Party was stalking her, but he _was_ curious as to what she was doing.

He peaked around the staircase they were all sitting on and out toward the highschool football field. Veronica was just a speck from where they stood. Hence the binoculars.

"I don't get what she's doing though. Last week she was running laps around the field and running up and down the bleachers. I don't know why anyone would do that outside of P.E. but I understood that. Exercise. Physical training. This I don't get." Dustin pulled the binoculars away from his face and waved them in the girl's general direction.

Dustin looked down at Mike and Will, the only two who hadn't looked through the scope that day. "She's just sitting there."

Lucas decided to chime in as well. "And she's been sitting there for the last half hour. Lunch is up in…." He checked the watch on his wrist. "Two minutes. And she hasn't moved from that spot even once."

"Let me see." Mike stood from his spot next to Will and climbed to the top, their designated crow's nest. He kneeled against the railing and held his hand out for the binoculars.

Will watched as his friend studied the girl through the lenses. "I think she's meditating." Mike looked down at Will while passing the binoculars to Lucas. "You said she knew some kind of Karate, right? Maybe it has something to do with that."

"Maybe she's training for some type of tournament. She's like the granddaughter of that lawyer on Kerley, or something. That woman is always heading out of town. My mom says she works on retainer for some big company in Chicago. She's always in the city, maybe Veronica used to be a part of a dojo over there." Lucas plopped himself down in Mike's abandoned seat and nudged Will with his elbow before handing the binoculars to him.

Lucas's words did make sense, Mike's too but he felt like they didn't quite fit what was going on. Will looked back at the girl in the field and thought back to what he'd observed of her since they met.

The way she had literally leaped in from out of nowhere on that first day. The way James flinched whenever she so much as entered the same hallway as him. The speed she showed when she ran around the highschool's tack. The way she weaved in and out of the crowds in the halls during breaks, gracefully and quick.

It could be all chalked up to the Karate thing. But it didn't feel right to him. There was more that was going on with her. He just didn't know what.

_Yet_.

Will turned toward the railing and brought the scopes up to his eyes. He tried to get Veronica in focus but his aim was off. He could make out her hair pulled up into a bun and then her backpack on the grass at her side.

He shifted around and was able to steady his view of her. She was sitting with her legs crossed and her feet tucked in under her knees. Her hands rested on her legs palms up. Her face was blank, eyes closed and expression slack. She looked like she was asleep, really.

She probably was meditating. But he had the strange urge to know why.

"That's boring." Dustin came down to sit on the stair above he and Lucas, Mike followed him.

"How is that boring? How many people do you know besides her that do Karate? How many girls?" Mike began to pack up his backpack, Dustin and Lucas followed.

"What more do you want from her? She's already staving off the mouthbreathers." Lucas stood up and tossed out his trash into a garbage can nearby.

She actually was keeping Troy and James at bay. The worst they'd done in her presence was shoulder Will in passing in the hallway. Will had smacked into a locker but it hadn't hurt too much. The next day James came in with a bruise across his nose and eyes.

Veronica supposedly bashed his face into a locker. He didn't think that was the real story. He was just glad the two bullies were finally leaving he and his friends alone.

Will's things were already tucked into his bag so he continued to watch the girl in the field. The bell would ring in a second, but he was too focused on her face to care.

"I don't know. I was hoping she was like a super secret ninja or something." Will could tell that Dustin was punctuating his words with random punches and kicks but he wasn't paying attention. He was too focused on Veronica. "Kicking ass and standing against the forces of darkness."

The girl's eyes shot open and she whipped her head around so that she was staring right at them. Will jumped back at the sight of her eyes narrowed in his direction. For a second they seemed yellow instead of their normal brown, until she blinked and they were once again dark.

"Forces of darkness? Really?" Lucas stepped in front of the binoculars, blocking Will's view. "She's an eighth grader. Not a Jedi. What is wrong with you?"

Will shot up, binoculars still in hand hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. The others fought behind him.

Will searched the field and she was gone. The bell rang signaling the end of lunch. He gave the binoculars to Mike, who then tucked them into his backpack.

"What's wrong?" Mike waited for Will as the others had already headed inside.

Will looked at his friend and then back to the empty field. "I don't know yet."

Mike followed his gaze. "Where did she go? I didn't even see her move."

"I have no idea."

Will kept playing that last glimpse of her in his mind. Her yellow eyes.

And Dustin's words.

_Standing against the forces of darkness._

For some reason that phrase felt right. Felt a lot better than and more true than anything about a tournament.

Will shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't need to be focusing on that at the moment. He had a math test next period.

That's what he should be focused on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Spoiler Alert:** This chapter has a lot of references to Season 7 Episode 11: Showtime.

**Disclaimer: **As Previously mentioned I don't own anything recognizable. Any Buffy quotes and plots are owned by Joss and Co. I also reference 1984, a Kennedy speech and threw in a little reference to a favorite character of mine. You'll notice it if you're a fan. Nothing belongs to me but Veronica.

**Authors Note: **For anyone who's been following my story a big thank you is in order. So, Thank you! Also love the fact that I've had people ask me to continue the story across multiple sites. Yay! It's been a month since my last update so this one is extra long for those who've been left waiting.

**Also: **Reminder: I don't have a beta and this was a long chapter so please excuse some of the mistakes I've missed.

Enjoy.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

Veronica sat at the table in the living room of the Summers' residence. She'd been flipping through a couple of spell books that Willow had left out earlier. She'd been sitting there for about an hour, she couldn't stand another minute in that basement with the others.

She was tired of hearing the other Potentials complain about the way things were going. Eve in particular did nothing but question Buffy and her skills, their safety, their decisions. The others all fed off her negativity, breeding fear and doubt throughout the ranks.

It was getting on her last nerve.

She'd been upstairs for the past hour, sitting at the table for a whole hour, and neither Dawn nor Andrew had noticed her presence in the room.

"Okay, here's another interesting thing. How come the Slayer's always a girl?"

"I don't know. 'Cause girls are cooler?"

Andrew has been pestering Dawn since they'd walked into the room. Veronica was trying to focus on the pages before her, but their words kept cutting through.

_Wards and Barriers._

She managed to tune them out and read a full page of notes on the subject of protective barriers. There were many different ways to create one. Incantations and anchoring a barrier to objects of power or runes. These would definitely come in handy in the future.

Veronica read the words to a particular barrier spell. She spread her hands out in front of herself, power seeping into her fingertips. She could see a translucent ripple between her hands as she spoke the incantation. "Caerimonia, Minerva. Saepio, Saepire, Saepsi.

Saepio Impedi-"

"Do you wanna play Kevin Bacon?!" Andrew was calling out to Dawn as the girl left the room.

Veronica huffed at being interrupted. The beginnings of her barrier died at her distraction.

"Do _you _wanna play Kevin Bacon?" The young potential looked up from her book to see that Andrew was talking to her. He was pouting at her from his spot sprawled out on the couch.

"Kevin who?" Andrew had sprung up from the couch and marched over to the table.

"Kevin Bacon. You know, like, Tremors," Veronica just stared at him. "Hollow Man," he raised a brow at her. "Stir of Echoes, Friday the 13th? Footloose?" He through his hands up in frustration. "Kevin Bacon!"

"You yelling his name at me isn't going to make a difference. I don't know who that is. I don't know the other things you listed either. What, are they books?" Veronica snapped the book shut. She had a feeling she wasn't going to get any more reading done today anyway.

"Books?! Well, some of them might be books- but they're movies! Great movies! You've never seen any of them?" He sounded disappointed, but not surprised. "Well, you're about ten, right? I guess you're probably not allowed to see most of them."

"I've never seen a movie before, at all." The look he gave her said it all. He was scandalized.

"What, were you raised by demons?!"

"The Watchers Council." He raised both brows at that.

"I am intrigued." He pulled out the seat opposite her and gracelessly plopped himself down. "Is that why the other Potentials don't like you?"

Andrew was blunt. Really blunt.

"No one really told me anything specific. Well, no one tells me anything, really. But I overheard Anya mention the tension between you and the others. And by overheard I mean she and Xander literally had the conversation right in front of me and ignored me the whole time."

There was an underlying tension between her and the other Potentials and there was no hiding it. The other girls were all older than her ranging from fifteen to their early twenties. She was the odd man out.

The Potentials tended to talk down to her, ignore her input and just exclude her from conversations completely.

She'd taken to aggressively asserting her presence in retaliation. She challenged Violet the other day. The older Potential had insisted that she shouldn't partner with Veronica in fear of hurting her so Veronica got a little angry during the spar. She hadn't pulled her punches, and easily overpowered the older girl even when she did actively try to fight back.

Xander had to pull Veronica off Violet.

The incident was labeled as a childish tantrum and made things worse. Veronica really needed to get a hold of her temper.

"I don't like them either." Veronica tried to make nice in the beginning but she gave up rather quickly.

"I've noticed."

"Is there a reason why you're bothering me?"

"No one here likes me, at all. Dawn just threatened to kill me because I talk too much. She said Buffy told her she can. Is that true?"

It wasn't. Buffy had a thing about not killing humans, even humans who weren't necessarily the most innocent of people.

"Yes." She stared him straight in the eyes as she said so. "She actually told all of us that."

"Ugh." He propped an elbow up on the table, nudging aside a book. "I'm just so bored, and alone. I was hoping I could help with whatever you were doing." He reached out for a book on his side of the table.

"No!" She slapped at his hand as he wrapped his fingers around a book that she knew from her time with the Council. He dropped the book with a yelp.

"What was that for?"

"You're not supposed to be touching any of these." Willow had mentioned that Veronica was allowed to read through any of the texts laid out if she wanted to, but she also firmly mentioned that Andrew wasn't allowed near any of them when he was released.

"This book especially." She held up the book that he'd tried to read. _Darkest Magick. _The book was not to be messed with. She'd read parts of it in the copy they had at the Watchers' headquarters. The spells in that tome had a potential for great destruction, for the world and the caster themselves.

"_Especially!" _Andrew pitched his voice higher in a bid to mock her, he also emphasized the English accent that sometimes tainted her words.

"I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do." He pushed his chair away from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. "Everyone hates me because I killed Jonathan. But it was a mistake. You don't understand what it was like to have that thing inside your head. Whispering to me all the time. It was a mistake. I'm better now. I can be better, if everyone would just give me a chance."

"You're not the first one to be manipulated by evil. It was a mistake, I can see that you mean that. But it doesn't excuse your actions. All you've done so far is sit here and whine about everything and talk shit about Buffy."

She'd heard that part of Andrew and Dawn's conversation.

Veronica pushed herself out of her chair and began to pile up the books spread across the table. "The other Potentials too. None of you understand. How hard it is to face something impossibly stronger than you, to nearly die at the hands of something like that. To really fight for your life, with teeth and nails and spells."

She felt a kinship with Buffy, being burdened with glorious purpose. She knew that her small experiences could never compare to what the Slayer had been through but it allowed her to understand her side of this situation.

"You've never had to do any of that because Buffy and the many Slayers before her have kept you safe, this town safe. You expect Buffy to do all the fighting because she's the Slayer, but this evil is too big for a single Slayer. It's not her fault, and it's not her sole responsibility. We all need to step up. To train and fight and not just sit here and complain while she sacrifices herself for us. And you? You need to step up and stop apologizing for your mistakes and start doing something to make up for them. Help us, help Buffy and don't talk shit about her when she's not here."

Veronica could see Dawn in the corner of her eye. She'd apparently come back for a book she'd left near the couch. She nodded her head in appreciation at the youngest Potential before heading back into the dining room where she'd gone to escape Andrew.

Andrew opened his mouth to respond.

"Don't!" Veronica interrupted him before he could even speak. "I'm allowed to kill you remember? Just go sulk on the couch or something." With that she carried her pile of books into the dining room and left Andrew to do exactly as she said. He flung himself down on the couch with a huff and a pout.

Veronica set the books down by Willow where she sat with Dawn. She picked up the one on top. _Darkest Magick. _"I don't think one should be down here at all." She slid the book over to the red headed Witch.

"Oh! No, you're right. I didn't mean to bring this one down. I'll go put it back in my room." Willow stood to head upstairs but was stopped by Buffy storming into the house the house.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 6th, 1983**_

"_Damn it!" _

Veronica ran as fast as she could. The soles of her boots pounded against the earth, leaves and twigs crunched beneath her feet as she ran like Hell was at her heels.

It wasn't.

She'd seen several Hell dimensions and though there were many demons that dwelled within those realms she knew of no actual demons in this universe. No, she wasn't running from something but rather _to _somewhere.

To Marianne's house, and to her room where her foster mother was going to enter any minute now with the intent to wake Veronica up. Veronica who wasn't there. Veronica who'd been sneaking out every morning to train before school.

Veronica who'd fallen asleep in the middle of the woods while meditating.

"I'm so late." The Slayer ran with her renewed speed. She'd lost some of her abilities in the three years since her arrival. She still possessed the ability to do all the things she had been able to do as a Slayer. She just was out of shape.

The saying "use it or lose it" was entirely accurate in her case. It was like being a Potential again. She was still faster than the average human sure, but she was used to being so much more than barely above average. It had taken a few weeks but she was finally getting back to the Slayer version of normal. And she was really pushing to run her fastest.

"She's gonna kill me." The trees began to thin as she neared the woods that lined her block. She could see the back of a few houses as she got closer.

Veronica looked up through the cover of the trees and searched for the sun. It was still relatively low, maybe she wasn't late yet. She really needed to invest in a watch. She really missed her cellphone. "It really comes in handy for things like this."

She turned her head back to her intended path, just in time to duck underneath a low hanging branch. It missed her face but managed to snag on a lock of her hair. It was caught, and with the speed she was going it actually pulled out several strands.

"_Son of a bitch!_" She cradled the crown of her head with one hand and gripped the strap of her backpack tighter with the other.

She was close. She could see the Buckley's house. She ran through their backyard and pauses by the side of their house. She made sure no neighbors were out and about and dashed across the street to Marianne's. She could see the light on in the kitchen. She pushed herself to run faster.

She dropped the hand from her head and slipped the arm back through the second strap on her bag. Nearing the fence in the front yard she quickly vaulted over the planks.

She went around the side of the house, to her bedroom window. She pushed at the pane and tossed her bag onto her bed beneath the ledge.

"Veronica? Are you up yet?" Marianne knocked on the door to her room.

Veronica hopped and grabbed onto the windowsill. Her feet dangled two feet off the ground and her entire body hung limply from her hands. She used her grip to pull herself up, managing to do a weird chin up from the ledge.

"Veronica?" Marianne knocked again.

"I'm up!" Her voice came out strangled as she pulled herself further into the room. Her legs dangled out the window as her upper body landed on the bed. She pulled on the sheets and twisted around to finally fully be in the house.

"Are you okay, in there?" She could see and hear the doorknob rattle as she rolled off the bed.

Veronica wasted no time in unlacing her boots and kicking off her jeans. She pulled off the hoodie she'd been wearing and pulled off that one leg of her pants that held on to her ankle. She quickly shoved everything under her bed and opened up the door.

She was met with Marianne dressed in a business suit, a white button up secured at the throat beneath an emerald green blazer and a matching skirt. The shoulder pads and the big chiffon ribbon in her hair gave it that 80s feel. She had stockings on but she was still barefoot.

Her face was worried. Her brows furrowed and her lips in a slight pout. Her eyes bore into the Slayer's.

"What was that?" Veronica pulled her hair down from the ponytail she'd had it in, wincing at the sting from her scalp.

"I asked if you were okay. Your voice is a little off." Marianne swept her eyes down Veronica's body. Taking in her disheveled appearance. The girl was in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of socks, but that was normal. Her eyes lingered on the sweat across Veronica's brow and the flush in her cheeks.

"Yeah I'm fine. I think I may be getting sick though." The Witch made a point of rubbing at her throat, messaging the skin by her tonsils and letting her gaze wander down the hall. She tried to slow her breathing as she tried to act cool.

"You look it." The woman's lips pulled into a frown. "You look a little flushed, may I?" Her hand reached for her forehead and when Veronica nodded she let the back of her hand rest against the girl's skin.

"You're a little warm. Hmm." She turned her hand over to check again. "Maybe you should stay home today." She raised an eyebrow at the girl in question.

The Slayer didn't want to stay back from school. She'd laid out a strict schedule for herself. With the training, monitoring the lab and keeping tabs on Will Byers she had her hands full. Plus she had to keep up appearances with Marianne and make time for homework.

"I have a biology test today. I can't miss it, no make ups." This was true. She hadn't studied for it but there was a test that day. "I'll be fine. I'll just bundle up and drink some tea and maybe eat some soup later."

Marianne stared at her intensely for a second and then she smiled. "You're such a good girl. Okay, go wash up I'll make you some breakfast before I go." She patted Veronica on the head twice and turned to leave.

"Oh and I'll be back a little late today, but no later than ten." She grabbed the doorknob and closed the door as she left.

"Holy fuck, that was close!" Veronica threw herself back onto her bed with a rush of breath leaving her lungs. "_Goddess_, how did Buffy pull that off for so long?"

Veronica wasn't used to this aspect of the Slayer lifestyle. Many Slayers lived their lives in secret from their friends and families. Very few were raised separately from their family. The Watchers Council integrated Watchers into their lives as coaches, teachers, neighbors, and librarians and the secret was kept from the family though training and slaying was done regularly.

Potentials and Slayers that were orphaned or with bad home situations were taken in by the council. There had only been a few cases over the years. The only other besides herself that she knew by name had been Kendra, the Slayer who had been called after Buffy's first death.

Kendra's parents had been young, Veronica didn't know their situation but she knew that they gave her up willingly to the Council. They were compensated quite well from the records she'd seen.

She'd been looking for her own file at the time but couldn't resist when she saw the fallen Slayer's name. Apparently Veronica's mother had died during childbirth. Her father was unknown. She had no family to pay off so the Council got her for free.

Being raised by the Council and spending the time after that with other Slayers meant that she'd never had to hide who she was or what she did. And the first few years after her arrival here she didn't have much to hide. She played around with her witchy powers sometimes, and she'd used her strength to open jars and carry bags but she hadn't done much more than that, not since she'd accepted her fate here.

She hadn't been actively going around using her powers and fighting off Big Bads. This balancing act between Slayer stuff and normal stuff was hard. She'd never really thought about it before.

"Buffy's a fucking bad ass." With those words of wisdom she quickly finished undressing and headed for the shower.

By the time she got out it was seven o'clock.

She quickly dressed for school. A black long sleeve, black jeans with a rip in both knees, a pair of heeled black boots and a green and black flannel.

She left her hair down after running some product through it and grabbed a beanie after accidentally brushing her fingers across the sore spot on her head. "Fucking trees." She settled the cap on her head and adjusted it in the mirror. A couple of pins secured the hat in place.

She reached over and plucked a choker from a little dish she had all her jewelry in. She grabbed the thickest one and fastened it around her throat. She let her finger linger around the necklace. With a blink of her eyes the irises of her reflection were gold and the glamour on her skin rippled away.

The scars were now visible to anyone who looked close enough, but the clothes and choker covered most of it from sight. She needed them visible for later.

Veronica grabbed her school backpack from under her desk, and shuffled around a few books until she found the one she'd hollowed out. She pulled out her wallet and tucked it into her bag.

After setting the book back on the shelf, she left the room and into the kitchen where two paper bags were left on the counter for her, one labeled breakfast and the other lunch. She shoved both in her bag and locked the door on her way out. She had forty minutes to get to school but she wanted to get there early.

It would take her fifteen if she pedaled fast.

—

Though she wanted to do something before she went to class she found herself pulling over into the center of town. She rode past the turn towards the schools and turned the opposite way.

The shops that lined the street technically made up what would be considered Downtown Hawkins, but it could hardly be called that by anyone who had ever visited a big city. Any city really. It was just two blocks of shops and restaurants, and a few small doctors' offices but it was a nice change from the busy streets of the bigger cities she'd grown used to.

Veronica pedaled past a few shops before she stopped in front of a general store. She'd been inside this specific store a few times before. She'd bought a couple things for school, a pair of binoculars and a stopwatch after her little incident with the lab. She wasn't sure if they sold regular watches but it was worth a shot.

She parked her bike at a nearby bike rack and walked into Melvald's.

A little bell rang overhead as she crossed the threshold. The store was empty, which made sense as it was still before eight. She could hear some shuffling coming from the far end of the store, hopefully whoever was working the register. Usually Melvald himself greeted his customers as they walked in.

"Hello?" Veronica made her way to the counter, where a little bell sat by the register. She tapped the bell twice.

There was a little scuffle by the back of the store. It sounded like someone dropped something, and her Slayer hearing allowed her to hear the murmured "Damn it." A door closed somewhere at the end of the store and a woman called out. "Just a minute!"

The Slayer smiled as she watched a woman, just barely forty or so, stumble out what she assumed was a stockroom or back entrance. She fanned her arms around her head as if clearing something away. She watched as the woman made her way over, tucking a pack of cigarettes into her shirt pocket as she did.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The woman was tired. Veronica could see it in the shadows under her eyes and the way she leaned against the counter, like her arms barely wanted to hold her up. Her voice was clear though, and her smile wasn't at all strained as she stared down at the girl.

"I need a watch, nothing fancy. I just wanted to check if you guys had some before going to a jeweler or something."

The woman eyed her for a second, a smile on her lips. "Shouldn't you be in school?" She sounded amused, her brown eyes were warm as they met her own.

"What?" Veronica looked at the clock against the far wall. It was fifteen to eight. "I still have fifteen minutes before home room starts."

"Hmm, well you'll probably be late." She raised a dark brow at the Slayer.

"Trust me, I won't miss much." She really wouldn't. English was her first class, after home room. She'd been an avid reader in her time with the council. Reading was the only activity allowed to her that wasn't Slayer related. She'd read all the classics, she'd read the greats, she'd already passed her GED. They were currently reading Pride and Prejudice, which she'd read several times over already. She'd been reading Crime and Punishment in its original language when she was nine. There was nothing Mr. Gursky could teach her at this point.

The woman, her name tag read Joyce, swept her eyes across Veronica. The girl wasn't sure what the woman was looking for but she seemed to approve. "We just got some dropped off last week. Follow me." Joyce crooked her fingers while heading around the counter and to a display case not too far from the door.

"May I present to you," she swept her hands dramatically over the glass of the counter, "the Swatches." There were about fifteen different watches all the same design but in different colors. The bands in red, blue, green, grey, white and black and there were several different designs on the faces themselves.

Veronica didn't really do much color. She mostly wore black. It was her inner goth. "Can I see the ones in black?"

Joyce pulled out a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the back panel of the display case. She grabbed three different black watches and placed them on the counter between them. All three had black bands, one had a white face while the others were all black. The two that were all black were different in only that one showed the date, and the other showed the day and the date.

Veronica picked up the second one, with the day and date. She ran her fingers across the band, it was a plastic, but sort of felt good when she ran her nail over the material. She made sure it fit across her wrist. It fit exactly where she wanted it to, secured on the second to last whole. Her wrist was pretty small.

She was careful not to show the tattoo on her wrist. She'd left her glamour down because she needed to talk to Harrington. He'd seen her scars already, it wasn't something that was easily disguised even with makeup. He'd stared at it for a while, it needed to be visible in his presence from there on out. She'd originally planned on catching him before class, now it would have to wait until after school.

"How much?" She turned her wrist this way and that way, getting used to the feel and the look.

"Thirty five."

"I'll take it." Veronica unclasped the watch and set it in the woman's waiting hand. Their fingers touched and a shock ran up the Slayer's arm. She hissed at the sensation it.

"Sorry! Are you okay? I felt that too." She laughed it off as she set the watches back into the display, and pulled out a box with the model Veronica wanted. "Must be static. I swear it happens all the time. I'm always shocking my youngest. I don't know what's wrong with me."

It was a little more than static. It was just the barest touch of magic.

"I'm fine, it just surprised me. That's all." Veronica was surprised. Three magically inclined people in one town. The Powers really were messing with her now.

"Hey? I'm sorry if this is a weird question but you wouldn't happen to be Will Byers's mom would you?" The woman tensed as she turned her back on the girl to get to the register. Veronica sent out a few tendrils of magic in the woman's direction. Sure enough she found a magical core. Again it was weak, like Will's but just a tad brighter than his. More sensitive, but the same pretty hues of yellows and greens as her son. They shared similar cores, but the mother's had a few streaks of bright red that Will didn't have. She was a bold one.

Veronica thought of another mother she knew of who shared the same name. Joyce. She'd never met Mrs. Summers but she'd heard a great many things about her. She wondered what that Joyce was like in person, if her aura would have been similar to this one's.

Veronica blinked away the gold from her eyes and followed Joyce to the register. The woman looked weary all of a sudden. Her smile forced and her back straight and tense. "Yes, I am." Her words were proud, but her eyes were narrowed. "Why?"

Veronica raised a brow at the way Joyce's words came out. She was confused with the sudden attitude change. The woman had been kind and playful just a minute ago. What was with the-?

Her eyes went wide.

"Oh! You think I'm one of the assholes that picks on him." She held her hands up by her shoulders, palms out, as if to show the woman she was unarmed. "No. I'm kind of new here. I moved here in, what was it, July? I've kind of been labeled a bit of an outcast myself. Will and his Party have been kind to me, but I'm in the year above him so we don't really hang out. But not because of him- He's not- I'm just kind of a loner, ya know? I really, I'm fucking this up, aren't I?"

Joyce sort of stared at her, waiting for Veronica to finish gathering herself together.

"You just look like him." She did look like him, or more accurately he looked like her. But it was the faint presence of magic within both of them that made her think they were related. "That's all. You guys have the same smile."

The smile she was talking about made its way back into the woman's face. It was that same quirky smile that Will gave her after she'd given him back his DnD book. It lit up both of their faces, she smiled with her eyes and everything. They were both very expressive people.

"Thank you. I've always thought so too." Joyce smiled down at Veronica as she rang her up. The Slayer felt weird under the woman's smile. It was freaking her out, all the emotion pouring out from that look she was giving her.

Veronica paid for the watch, it kind of hurt. Her funds were running low. She'd been making a lot of purchases lately. Mostly food, if she was honest. She had stuff at Marianne's but she couldn't resist a good burger from Benny's, or three. She was a Slayer. She had the Slayer metabolism. She liked to eat.

It was fine though because she had an idea in mind on how to make some of that money back.

"Thanks." She took the bag and receipt when Joyce handed them to her.

"Of course. Your welcome…" she trailed off hoping for a name. Veronica slipped the backpack off her shoulder, the collar of her flannel caught in the strap as she pulled it off.

"Hmm? Oh, Veronica Lehane." She unzipped her backpack and put the bag inside the largest compartment. It barely fit with everything else in her bag but it wouldn't be in there for very long. She'd open it up and set it up during break or something.

"Veronica? That's a very, oh, pretty name." Joyce watched as the girl put her new watch away. Her shirts had pulled to one side, shifting her hair and exposing her neck. Joyce's smile became strained looking at the scars across the girl's throat, barely hidden by the necklace she wore.

The girl looked up from zipping up her bag and gave the woman a smirk. "Thank you, I've always thought so too."

Joyce's smile had changed from the tight lipped smile, that Veronica hadn't even noticed, to a smirk though there was still a touch of sadness in her eyes. "You run along now." She shooed her away. "You're already late."

Veronica spotted the clock on the wall. Five minutes to eight. If she gunned it she'd at least make it to the halls before the bell rung, Hawkins Middle was only two blocks down. "See ya."

"Bye, Veronica!" And with the bell ringing with the door she was off.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

After the Buffy and Xander exposed Eve as The First the group decided to gather for a meeting to discuss the threat it had dropped on them all.

It wasn't going well so far.

"_Deal?_ Fight, you mean. How are we supposed to do that?" Rona spoke up from her end of the table.

"And with what?" Violet voiced from beside Veronica.

"With whatever it takes! Right?" The youngest Potential didn't particularly like Kennedy but she agreed with her for once.

Veronica watched on as each girl voiced their thoughts on the situation. It was like a volleyball match.

Molly spoke next. "Buffy, you fought the Turok-Han, and it almost killed you." She was one of the ones who hung out with Eve the most, who fell under The First's influence the most.

"And you're the real Slayer." Chloe, was another one that was heavily influenced by The First.

"What chance do we have?" Rona, again. Constant complaints from her like always.

Veronica had had enough.

"What's the matter with you all?" Everyone turned to look at her. Many were surprised, she'd stopped actively participating in group discussions a while ago. "All any of you are doing is repeating what The First has been telling us since it waltzed in pretending to be Eve. It's all bullshit. Stupid war tactics. Psyche out the enemy. Get into their heads, breed doubt and fear and then you have opponents with no will to fight."

Veronica looked around the table, meeting the eyes of several Potentials. "You're falling for it."

Molly stared back at her. "Does it really matter who said it? It wasn't very far off, was it?" She looked back a Buffy. "Honestly, you staked that thing, and it didn't die."

It descended into nothing but arguments after that. Kennedy and Dawn, the only ones that weren't hopeless, versus the rest of the girls.

Buffy, Xander and Willow all left the room, leaving the girls to continue talking over each other.

Veronica sat back and watched the back and forth between all the girls.

The others did have a point. They weren't full fledged Slayers. There wasn't much the others could do against a Turok-Han Vampire. They'd never even seen a regular Vampire in the flesh before.

Veronica had been lucky to survive the one interaction she'd had with Vampires. The nest in Cardross made her really fight for her life, and Veronica could admit that they probably weren't even a particularly powerful nest either. Just newly risen Vampires terrorizing a random town. The only reason she'd survived was her magic.

These girls didn't have magic to protect them like she did. They did have the numbers needed to make a difference, but only if they were all ready and willing to fight.

The talk of death, and can'ts being thrown around told her that they weren't ready. Not yet.

She stood from her seat and went into the kitchen to find Buffy and Willow.

She found both women and Xander standing in silence by the island counter. They were all trading intense looks silently. Veronica could feel the prickle of magic roll across her skin as soon as she passed the threshold.

Xander noticed her presence first. "Hey! Ronnie, what's up?" He gave her a half smile as she stepped further into the room.

She didn't really like the nickname he'd given her but she didn't object when he'd started using it. So now she was stuck with it.

She nodded in his direction, and then met the eyes of both Buffy and Willow as well. "I just wanted to lend my help on the magical side of things."

Buffy stood taller, no longer leaning against the counter. "That won't be necessary. Willow is more than capable of creating a barrier between us and anything The First sends our way. You don't need to worry about that."

Willow jumped in as well. "Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem I've done similar spells before. We were just worried about the pow-" Buffy shot her a look. "I mean, it's going to be fine. And besides the spell is a little tricky, it's not really something a beginner should be trying."

Xander patted her on the shoulder in consolation.

"Beginner?" She looked at all three of them. "I'm not a beginner. Didn't Giles tell you anything about me? I've been practicing witchcraft since I could read. Look."

Veronica swept her eyes around the kitchen. With a blink of her eyes everything that wasn't anchored down to the counter or floor was floating. Pots, the kettle, the blender, a few bowls from the sink, every kitchen appliance that was out including the fridge floated at least three inches off the ground or counter.

The three of them looked around them in surprise. Veronica leaned over and touched Xander's hand and soon he was floating too. "Whoa! Okay, I get it! 'We all float down here!' Set me down."

She did. And she gently set everything back in its place.

"Okay. So you're more than a beginner." Buffy turned back to look at the young potential. "I still don't think there's anything you can really do to help. Willow is one of the strongest Witches out there. She can do this."

Willow looked between her friend and the young Witchy-Potential, her face scrunched up awkwardly.

"I'm not trying to replace Willow in your plan, I'm just thinking I can add my power to the spell. You know, channel my powers. Willow does the incantation and all I need to do is have physical contact with her, it could possibly double the strength of the barrier."

Xander looked to Willow. "Is that something that we could do Will?"

Willow looked anxious. They all traded several different looks, expressions played across their faces like they were actually speaking.

Veronica felt the tension of magic again.

Maybe they _were_ speaking to each other.

She decided to interrupt the silent conversation that was going on. "I'm also good at a simulated sunlight spell."

"What?!" Willow broke out of the trance first. "I tried that! How did you get it to work?" She stepped up to the younger Witch.

"Yeah, Will and Anya were at the Magic-"

"We don't talk about that Xander!" He shut his mouth with an audible clack in response. They broke out into a small whispered swatting match.

"Does it work against Vampires?" Buffy cut off the twos' bickering.

Veronica thought back to the only time she'd used it in battle. "Yes."

"You've used it against Vampires before? We can't work off hypotheticals here, not against the Turok-Han." Buffy stepped around her two friends to stand directly in front of Veronica.

Veronica was five foot even, which put her about four inches shorter than the Slayer when she wasn't wearing heels, which she always did. Buffy towered over her by a good six inches or so.

The Slayer's green eyes bore into her brown ones as she waited for an answer.

"Yes. I have." Veronica pulled at the collar of her shirt. The material stretched until it passed her shoulder. Her eyes flared gold, making the Slayer take a half step back, and the glamour hiding her scars dissolved away.

"I got these in June." The flesh was ragged. It was still pink and sometimes tender if she messed with it. Burns and claw marks. They all stared at the wound. Buffy put her hand to her own neck.

"My Watcher sent me to clear out a nest near where we were staying in Cardross. There were six Vampires. I used the sun spell on three."

She pulled her shirt back up and took a few steps back. She held her hands out in front of her. Palms facing each other about a foot apart. She conjured up the ball of sunlight wordlessly. It was a small sphere about the size of a football. It was bright, but not blinding. Heat poured off of it in waves. "I can throw the sphere at them or summon it in a form of a ray, a straight beam of light." She let the sunlight retreat back into her hands.

"Holy crap. Definitely not a beginner." Xander was eloquent as always.

Buffy looked back at her friends. Veronica spoke again. "Also I can feel whatever it is that you guys are doing. The magic prickles against my skin. I've never read anything on shared telepathy. Is it something Willow created?"

Buffy huffed in response. "Cat's out of the bag. She's in by default." She nodded to both her friends before looking back at the Potential. "Follow us upstairs, we need to talk about what we're doing next."

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 6th, 1983**_

Veronica sat on the trunk of a burgundy BMW. Her heels propped up against the back bumped, her backpack beside her, and earphones on and cranked up to maximum volume. Fleetwood Mac poured through the speakers. It was a mixed tape her foster brother had made her.

Her iPod was buried beneath her bed with a few other things from her other world. She missed her music. She missed her heavy metal and her emo bands. Damn, music was good back then, or would be good in the future.

She'd been dismissed early after finishing up her Bio test. She was the fastest one by far and she knew she passed the test with flying colors. She strode straight over to the high school parking lot and parked herself up on the trunk of the only car she recognized.

Veronica removed her headphones and pulled off her beanie, it wasn't very cold and her head had healed by then anyway. She pulled the pins from her hair and shook out her mane. It felt good to release her hair from the pressure of being pulled back that way.

Veronica sighed as she glanced down at her new watch. Twenty minutes until both schools let out.

She pulled her sleeve back to look at the numbers in her arm. She needed to find a way to cast a localized glamour on just the tattoo. The scars had already been seen. She'd no doubt that Joyce Byers had saw them that morning as well. No more use in hiding them with magic.

She pulled her sleeve back down and then put the headset back on and laid back against the trunk, her head leaned against the back window.

She thought over her session at lunch. She'd been meditating, sort of. She'd been checking in with her little friend at the lab, sending a part of herself out into Hawkins Lab and taking measure of the other girl.

She hadn't had a repeat of the same mind meld she experienced that first night. She hadn't wanted to, not yet anyway.

She'd always been good at sending magic, being able to see and sense people's auras and cores. She'd been monitoring her friend that way. Feeling out her aura, brushing against her core but never allowing them to entwine the way they had previously.

The girl had been sleeping. At noon on a weekday. Like she always did. The lab apparently liked to keep her mostly nocturnal. Veronica checked on her multiple times throughout the day and every night.

She'd fallen asleep that morning while monitoring her. She slipped out of the house at about two and trekked into the forest by the lab. It was the first time she'd been back to the lab since that night. She'd monitored the girl's magical signature often but hadn't been back physically.

She watched the guard patterns, noted all the cameras on the property, sketched a layout of the lab, all the entrances and even a single drain pipe that lead off the property.

She planned on going back in the next few days to record the guard schedule by time. The watch really was necessary for her plans.

After she realized the girl in the lab was asleep she decided to check in on her little nerd herd. They'd been following her around, but they quickly turned to full blown stalking lately. They'd brought in the binoculars only recently, last Wednesday. It was odd being the one being watched. She was just glad that she wasn't actively keeping tabs on Will outside of school anymore.

She thought she knew his connection to what was coming. Wrong place, wrong time. A boy with a magical core that rode by a place that housed a Witch and experimented with magic and possibly Demons? She just needed to monitor the girl and act when shit hit the fan, if she couldn't get the girl out of there before things went to Hell.

Her music changed again. A synthesizer, the pluckinging of a bass, the beat of percussion and whine of an electric guitar.

_Kicking ass and standing against the forces of darkness_.

If she didn't know for a fact that Dustin didn't have a magical core at all, she would have thought him to be a psychic. Or to be a dimension hopper himself. The wording was too close to the truth.

She hadn't heard the spiel in a while.

"Into every generation, there is a chosen one." She recited the words out loud. She tapped her boots to the beat of the song, against the car bumper. "One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the Vampires, the Demons, and the forces of darkness." She propped herself onto her elbows and noticed that students were finally pouring out from the schools. She wouldn't have to wait long. "To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers." She whispered the last line to herself. "I am the Slayer."

She tapped her fingers to the music and hummed along to the guitar. Until the sound was gone.

"What are you doing on my car?" Harrington had yanked the headset off her ears and dropped it onto her stomach.

He was standing near the backseat with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a burgundy and navy striped long sleeve polo shirt, it was tucked into his blue jeans. He wore a brown belt and white sneakers. His hair was artfully parted and swept out and then backwards.

He was the proverbial 80s alpha male. He dressed a bit like Eric Forman, the hair was definitely Kelso though. She didn't understand the appeal.

"First of all," she sat up completely and turned to face him. "That was rude." His eyes were on her neck. She patted the car twice. Drawing his attention before shooting a finger gun at him, three inches from his nose. "Second? I have a proposition for you."

He swiped at her hand in his face. He missed, as she dodged his hand reflexively. "You have a proposition for me? What do you want now?"

"Now? You act like I've asked something of you before. I haven't. Ask not what you can do for your country, but what your country can do for you."

He stared at her blankly.

"It was a play on words. Kennedy. His inaugural speech? Nothing?" She sighed. "Your failing History too aren't you?"

"What? No. I have a 'C' in History, thank you very much. And what do you mean 'too'."

"I mean, I heard you're failing English." She'd seen an essay on the floor of his car the night he drove her home. A big fat 'F' in red ink stamped across the top and so many corrections throughout the body.

She had actually heard that he'd been assigned a tutor in English. Nancy Wheeler, older sister of Will's friend Mike. She'd overheard the boy telling his friends how much his sister was complaining about working with him. She told her friend, Barb, that he was a jerk who tried to convince her to do a paper for him. He didn't show up to their assigned meeting on time. And apparently she also thought him cute but too much of a jerk to bother pining for.

Mike liked to listen in on his sister's phone calls.

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"Well, this might surprise you but I've been known to sell papers for cash. English specifically. I'm good at analytical papers, book reports, persuasive essays. You name it. You give me a few of your old essays, I mimic a bit of your writing style. We start off with a 'C' paper and then we work our way up from there. You don't go from a failing paper to perfect one in one essay. That's how you get caught."

"Wait, hold on here." Harrington waved his arms about as it to physically clear away the words being hurled at him. "Are you offering to write English essays for me?"

"Do I need to speak slower for you to understand?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. I. Write. Essay." She pointed at first herself and then him. "You. Get. Good. Grade." She held two fingers up. Her index and middle fingers and swiped her thumb back and forth across them. The universal sign of money. "I. Get. Cash. Both. Happy."

"You're a little asshole, you know that?" She smiled at his words.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I take it as the highest form of flattery." He pushed her off the car. She landed on her feet with ease.

"You're in middle school. There's no way I'm letting you write my papers."

Veronica dragged her bag towards her. She slipped her hand inside and pulled out a thin folder. "What are you reading in English right now?"

"Um, 1984 by George…" he trailed off.

"Orwell. It's by George Orwell." She pulled out a packet of paper from the back of the folder. "'Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.'"

"Was that supposed to be something from the book?"

"Yes. Part three, chapter three. I've read it before, I've written essays on it before. You're in good hands." She handed him the sheets in her hand. "This is an essay I wrote for 'Pride and Prejudice' it's an example of an 'A' paper. Take it."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He stepped closer to her. Hunching over as he whispered to her.

"Read it. See if it's worthy of a high school essay?" She zipped up her backpack and swung it back onto her shoulder.

"Look, I don't really know if this is a good idea. I mean-"

"Is everything okay here?" They both looked up from their hushed conversation. Nancy Wheeler stood there in all her doll like glory. The only thing that wasn't doll like was the near scowl on her face.

"Hey! Nancy!" Harrington straightened up immediately. He ran his fingers through his hair with one hand and then reached the other out to lean an elbow against the roof of his car.

He missed.

He flailed for a fraction of a second and then he did a full body lean against the car. His arm rested on the roof and her drummed his fingers against the burgundy finish.

"What's up?" He nodded his head at her, in a way that was supposed to be cool. He was really trying to lay the charm on thick.

"Um, nothing much. I just wanted to check in and make sure we're still on for our meeting on Thursday. To go over your book report." Nancy hugged her books to her chest as she spoke to him. Her baby blue, cardigan covered arms formed an 'X' across her body. She was not feeling his charm.

Veronica decided to step in and save the day. It was her job as a Slayer to stop the death of civilians. And Steve was dying out there.

"Hi, I'm Veronica." She'd seen the way the girl had eyed her curiously. She waved a hand at the girl. "I was just letting Steve know that he didn't have to drive me home today." She stepped away from the car and towards the older girl. "He's been nice enough to give me a ride back home sometimes, when we both stay late. I like to study in the library, I go to the middle school. He doesn't like the thought of me out on the roads too late."

"Oh. I'm Nancy, by the way." She reached out a hand to the younger girl. They shook and some of the tension in Nancy drained away.

"I know. Steve's told me about how kind you've been to offer to help him." Nancy seemed surprised at the notion that he mentioned her. "I'm sorry about making him late to your study sessions the last few times. I've been working on this project for Bio and I've had a lot of books with me. It's easier to bring them home in a car than on a bike. Steve's been really kind to me since I've been fostered here."

"Fostered?" Her voice was soft.

"Yeah. My parents died when I was young, I've lived in a few orphanages in a few cities but my foster mother here is really kind. She's just a bit busy. Doesn't have time to pick me up from school very often. But Steve's been a big help."

She looked from Veronica and then back to Steve. The Slayer could tell that she had warmed up to him already. She'd hit all the major points.

_Helping a little orphan get back home late in the afternoon. Complimenting her kindness. Mentioning that he talked about her. _

Nancy smiled at Steve for the first time since she came up to them. "That's really sweet of you, Steve."

"It's nothing, really." He went with it.

"I have to go but it was nice meeting you, Veronica. I'll see you tomorrow Steve." She headed towards the middle school where her brother was waiting for her by a car. Probably their mom's.

Nancy paused her steps and looked back at them both. Her eyes were just for Steve, really.

He waved back at her, a grin on his face.

"I should charge you extra for that."

He looked down at her in awe. "How did you do that?"

"I don't teach _that."_ She picked up the essay he dropped on the car. "I do homework, essays and the occasional art project. There endeth the lesson."

The words reminded her of Buffy.

Time to negotiate a price.

"Now I charge ten for 'C', fifteen for a 'B', and twenty for a perfect paper."

"That's a bit high."

"Well would you rather do them yourself? Don't you want to impress Nancy with your improvement?"

"Well…"

"So tomorrow after school, I bring you an essay on 1984. And you give me ten bucks. Deal?"

"Fine."

"I need a prompt though."

"I think I have one in my bag, wait a second let me grab it."

—

The essay prompt was just a basic book report. All Veronica had to do was flip through the book reports she had saved over the years. She had several on 1984. Two of the 'C' worthy papers on slightly better than the first.

She'd give him the second one. So he could impress Nancy just the slightest bit. She'd give it to him the next day, have him copy it in his own handwriting and then return it to her when he was done.

Ten dollars, easy, and she didn't have to do anything.

She spent the rest of the night practicing katas with a broom handle.

Faith had been the guiding force in her life post Sunnydale but she'd never had the patience to practice katas with her. She was a street fighter first and foremost. Veronica had adapted to Faith's wild style of fighting eventually, but the precise movements of martial arts is what felt most natural to her.

Buffy had actually shown Veronica a few Tai Chi routines she'd learned from Angel.

It made her think back on the words she'd spoken earlier that day. The first speech Buffy had really given them before the true Slayer training had started.

_I don't know what's coming next, but I do know it's gonna be just like this- hard, painful. _

Her movements were swift. Precise. Strong.

_But in the end it's gonna be us. If we all do our part, believe it- we'll be the ones left standing._

There was no we. Veronica was alone in what was to come, but she was prepared to do her part. To play her role in what was to come.

Veronica could hear Marianne calling out to her from within the house. She looked down at her watch. It was 10:30.

"Here endeth the lesson."


	8. Chapter 8

**Spoiler Alert:** The flashbacks in this chapter take place in what is probably the first five minutes of Season 7 Episode12: Potential. It doesn't really show anything from the episode though, just takes place during it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything recognizable. Any Buffy quotes and plots are owned by Joss and Co. neither do I own Harry Potter, obviously.

**Trigger Warning:** mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic. Also a bit of a panic attack, and mentions of a past physical assault, again nothing too graphic.

—-

Chapter 8:

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 10th, 1983**_

"Two guards posted at the main gate. Armed, handguns. One walks the perimeter every hour on the hour. Ten minutes, max."

Veronica shuffled around a few pages she'd laid out across the bed. "Where is it? Where is it?" She mumbled to herself as she searched through her chicken scratch notes.

"Six hours." She circled the note in red pen. "Guard shift after six hours. One comes in replaces the first guard. Three hours later a replacement comes for the second."

"Guard switch every three hours, every shift lasts six hours." Keeps the guards fresh, security sharp.

She unfolded a larger sheet she'd tucked into a notebook and scanned the areas marked in blue. "Cameras on the fences, at the guard station, and on every corner of the building."

There was no clear way in. Not without being seen by either a guard or a camera. She'd been careful to never get too close to Hawkins Lab, keeping to visiting in the night and observing from afar with the use of her binoculars.

She was one person. They were a Government run facility, one with a whole security team armed with guns. She was a thirteen year old girl with a knife.

She had powers, yes. She had strength, yes. But was she willing to use them? She wasn't sure yet.

She didn't know these people. Didn't know what went on in that lab, nor the extent of their participation. She could never really know for sure.

Did they know about the girl in the sub levels of the facility? Did they know that she even existed? Did they know that she spent every night awake and scared? That she often spent the early mornings in a panic before she just suddenly felt nothing? Asleep? Drugged? Passed out?

Veronica had been keeping tabs on the girl. Reading her aura, her energy, and trying to come up with an explanation for what was going on in there. She could practically taste the emotions rolling off her core. The girl's powers were so tightly linked to her emotions, Veronica was able to read them at the slightest try.

She hadn't dare tried to push further. Afraid of what might happen if she tried again.

She'd barely been able to pull herself out of the girl's mind. It had taken all of her strength, both physical and magical, to separate their minds. She wasn't sure how she had even done it. She wasn't even sure she could do it again.

She was scared to try again. Scared that she'd lose herself in the process if she did.

So she avoided it by planning a way to break into the lab, undetected.

She'd rushed into unknown territory exactly twice and she wasn't willing to do it again. Lives were lost, lives that could have been saved had they taken the time to prepare just a tad bit longer, or used the weapons they had to their advantage.

She was the first to admit that most of the time she was the "act first, ask questions later" type of person. But that was with a team at her back and a senior Slayer at her side.

She'd learned to be a bit more pragmatic since she'd been on her own. Think things through. Listen to her instincts, the ones that shouted "Danger! Beware!"

So she spent her Saturday morning planning.

Sneaking into the lab seemed like a bust for the moment.

She could try storming in, metaphorical guns blazing but she had to consider the consequences.

What were the consequences of storming the castle full force?

She could go up to the gates. Rip the fences from the ground with little more than a wave of her hands. The guards would raise their guns to her. They would shoot and though she could move objects with her magic she wouldn't be able to stop a bullet in its tracks. Not at the speed they went, nor the force they exuded. She would die.

Or she could twist their necks from where she stood. Disintegrate their bodies with the full force of the burning sun. She could probably do a million other things that would stop them from even raising their guns. But all would end in their death.

She didn't know how involved these people were and even then she'd never killed a human before. She wasn't sure she had it in her to start now.

But if she did, then what? More security would pour out of the lab, armed and ready. She could probably take them down too, maybe not all of them but some. And what would she do if she got into the building?

Find the first elevator down and just kill or dispose of anyone that got in her way?

Suppose she did get the girl and run. Then what? Be on the run from the U.S. government for the rest of her life? Escape the country? What good would that do?

"I need to go in undetected. By the guards and the cameras. But how?"

She tossed herself back onto the pillows by the end of the bed. "How do I do that?"

She wished she could just Jedi mind trick the guards. "'These aren't the droids you're looking for.' God damnit! I sound like Andrew." She threw her arms over her face.

Her watch smacked her in the nose.

"Ow!" She wasn't used to wearing the thing on her wrist yet. She found herself constantly adjusting its position and fit. It irritated the skin there.

She rubbed at her nose and checked the time. The thing had moved. The face rested on the inside of her wrist. It was almost noon.

Her eyes trailed from the timepiece to the ink just below it.

009

She still didn't know what it was. Or how it got there. She really needed to work out that localized glamour. Maybe she should see if she could anchor it to the watch. It was always going to be resting against her wrist. It could work.

Now she just needed to design a rune array.

There were so many different runes and combinations she could use. She wasn't sure which ones to carve.

"Thurisaz. Protection and defense. Gifu. Combine forces. Perthro. Change, secrets and hidden things. Uruz? Change and manifestation. Or Eihwaz? Removal of obstacles."

She groaned in frustration.

She'd never had to rely on runes, much. She remembered all of the meanings for the upright positionings, but didn't remember a lot of the merkstave stuff. Plus she'd never had to create a runescript on her own.

"Fuck it. Let's do them all." Faith's knife made the carvings, blood from the base of her thumb stained the tip of the blade and powered the runes.

The runescript worked, but it was barely stable. They accepted each other but didn't exactly want to play nice. She wished there had been an Ancient Runes class at the Slayer academy like there was at Hogwar-

"Harry Potter!" She hopped off the bed, knife still in hand, flinging her notes and maps all over the floor. Some of the blood splattered on the pages but she didn't care at that moment. "Harry fucking Potter!"

She knew how she was going to make it past the lab's security.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

Sparing with the other Potentials was easy, for the most part. Most of the girls had hardly seen any type of physical training, Kennedy was the one exception. They didn't have super strength. They had a fraction of the advanced reflexes and agility a Slayer would have, but they didn't know how to use it yet. They also had a hard time seeing Veronica as a possible threat.

So she was never met with much challenge from them.

This, however?

This was a challenge.

Running through a cemetery in the middle of the night, chasing after a Vampire, that was new. And though she was loathe to admit it, it was hard.

Veronica weaved between the headstones, her sight set on the head of blonde she'd been chasing for the past few minutes.

She could tell that he was just playing with her.

He'd dart around the tombstones, weaving back and forth in a bid to trip her up. It worked. She sort of stumbled a few times and smacked her elbow into a corner of a statue in the midst of the chase.

And yet despite her trip ups he was always in sight, always just in her line of vision so she didn't lose sight completely.

She didn't know how long she'd been chasing him for, but she knew she was tired of it already.

"Fuck this." She huffed out, as she leapt over a stone bench.

He was just going to keep playing with her until she tired out or she _really_ attacked.

The other Potentials had gone first. Rona and Violet, then Kennedy and Molly. Veronica was alone because of the odd numbers. Chloe had gone with Giles to pick up another Potential somewhere in China.

Veronica had wanted to be the one to go, but she was shot down. Which was really stupid of Giles considering Veronica was the only one in the group who knew Mandarin.

Not that she was bitter about it or anything. _Not at all._

It just left Veronica partnerless. It also gave Buffy the idea of making the youngest Potential chase Spike instead of being chased by him.

The Slayer was sure to lay down some rules first though. Buffy had said no sunlight, but she didn't veto out magic completely.

Veronica pushed herself to run faster. She cut a straight path towards him, refusing to follow his erratic lead any longer. He was heading toward a part of the cemetery they'd started at, she'd literally been chasing him in a big circle. She decided to use the familiar layout to her advantage.

Spike darted passed the area where Buffy and the other Potentials watched. Tossing a playful "Ladies" over his shoulder with a wave.

The Potentials let out half hearted chuckles, Buffy rolled her eyes and Veronica let her own eyes go gold.

She ran passed the girls and summoned the stakes from their hands.

Spike went to move left, Veronica forced two stakes to fly just beyond his form. One hit a tree and stuck, the other hit a mausoleum and shattered. The Vampire quickly switched directions and went right instead.

Veronica followed. She saw two mausoleums side by side. She knew he'd run between them, probably hide behind one and attack her as she ran after him.

She left the stakes following her fall, including the one in her own hand. She needed both hands for what she was about to do.

She ran after him and chanted under her labored breath, hands extended out. The movements were odd. She felt like she'd tip forward with the position.

A barrier came up, extending from one mausoleum to the other. Spike smacked into an invisible wall and came down hard. When she caught up to him he was up again and his brow furrowed in the way only a Vampire's could.

"Clever." Her eyes were focused on his mouth, watching in a morbid curiosity as his teeth somehow never caught on his lips while speaking. "I thought Buffy said no magic?"

He moved towards her as he spoke. Veronica made sure to move opposite him, maintaining the distance and keeping her body facing his. She didn't want him at her back. The skin at her throat felt itchy at the thought, like her scars wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.

"She said no sunlight." But even as Veronica stated the words she felt the slightest warmth gather in her palms.

"You're right." He lunged, his voice taking on a lionesque growl toward the end of his words.

She leapt forward as well, and rolled underneath his airborne frame. There was an advantage to being small, especially when facing those who weren't used to fighting smaller opponents.

She came up from the roll with her back to her own force field. Spike was already lunging for her again.

She caught a glance of platinum blonde hair before he was on her. One hand gripped her shoulder, right over her scars, the other gripped the elbow she'd hurt earlier that night. She hadn't dropped the shield yet. So Spike had forced them both into the invisible barrier.

Veronica's eyes stared into the Vampire's yellow eyes as her head cracked against the barrier.

The pain was blinding. It was her head, and her arm and the skin of her neck.

Her vision went black. She couldn't see the Vampire but she could still feel him.

He was on her. Tearing into her flesh, ripping at her hair, crushing the bones in her arm into dust.

She screamed. A raw and feral cry. It ripped right out of her lungs and drowned out everything else.

He was killing her. He was _killing_ her! She needed to get away. She punched and kicked and clawed at him in a blind fury.

She screamed as she fought. Not for help. Blake hadn't helped her earlier, he wouldn't help her now.

She felt hands on her. Hands from every direction. They were _all_ there. The entire nest of Vampires.

_Off. Off. Off._

She couldn't breathe.

She needed them all off her.

Heat pooled in her chest, burning. It felt like her skin was on fire, like it would incinerate and leave her as nothing more than dust. She fought off the fire within, not wanting to let it consume her.

But she still needed those hands gone.

_Off!_

Something inside of her snapped. Like an elastic pulled impossibly taught until it just broke.

Magic burst out of her in a wave. All the hands were gone. All the heat was gone. All the screaming, her screaming, was gone.

She could hear groans coming from all around her. And it wasn't the growling animal like sounds she'd expected.

She opened her eyes to see Buffy, Kennedy, Rona and Spike strewn about the cemetery grounds. Pieces of stone from the mausoleum littered the grass. Violet and Molly clutched stakes to their chests in the distance.

She was in Sunnydale. _Not Cardross._

She'd been chasing Spike. _Not_ the nameless Vampires from before.

She hadn't been in any real danger. But she'd put everyone else in danger. A lot of it.

Buffy, the closest one to Veronica, sat herself up and looked at the young Witch. "Veronica…"

Buffy trailed off not knowing what to say, how to react. The youngest Potential picked herself up, leaning her back against the still active barrier.

It was just a simple exercise. Chase and be chased. It was a game. To teach the Potentials outside the house for once, to get them out in the natural settings of a Slayer.

And Veronica nearly killed everyone there. The Potentials, the Slayer, a souled Vampire. Everyone who fate was counting on to stop the Apocalypse.

She lost control of her magic. Of herself. She hadn't been able to separate the past from the present. She hadn't been able to stop her magic from letting loose and reacting to the panic and fear she'd felt.

She was lucky that she'd been able to pull back even just a little. She was lucky that she'd been more focused on the feel of their hands than the memories of her attack.

She could have killed them all. If she'd allowed that heat to continue to build, if she'd let it pour from her core, she would have incinerated them all.

Like she incinerated the Vampires in Scotland.

She shook the memory from her mind, or tried to at least.

_Sunnydale. Sunnydale. Not Cardross._

Spike. Not the killers that had torn at her flesh and killed across the Scottish town.

She couldn't shake the memory.

She'd fucked up.

"I'm sorry."

She let the barrier at her back finally fall, and then she turned and ran.

"Veronica! Wait!"

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 12th, 1983**_

The bell rang signaling the end of school.

Will tucked his things into his backpack and waited for the other students to rush from the room before leaving his seat. He'd been jostled around enough to know that one must always avoid the wave of kids eager to exit the school as fast as possible.

He and his friends were always some of the last to leave the room, and they frequently stayed after school to meet up with Mr. Clarke for official AV Club meetings.

Today was one of those days.

"Today's the day!" Dustin threw his arms out dramatically as they crossed the threshold of their last class. He almost smacked a sixth grader in the face as he did so. "Whoa, sorry!"

Lucas rolled his eyes at the display, shoving the boy out of the way and making way for the rest of the group to pass by as well. "Can you _not_ block the doorway? I'd like to get to my locker already so we can head over to Clarke's."

"You can't tell me you're not excited." Dustin pulled at the straps of his backpack, fiddling with the buckles there.

"There's not much to be excited about, it's just a catalog." Lucas led the group down the hallway and toward the wing of the school that held their lockers.

"It's a catalog that holds the next great adventure for us as an AV club." Mike spoke up from his spot next to Will.

Will looked up slightly to catch his friend's eyes. Mike was enjoying the back and forth between their two friends, and he always liked to egg them on. Will raised a brow at his friend and received a laugh in response.

"See? A reason for excitement. We get one new piece of equipment a year. Think of the things we can do! We could buy night vision goggles! Or infrared sensors! Or, or a robot. We could build a robot with the stuff we buy!"

"No. No robots." Mike had been all about fueling Dustin's excitement until the mention of robots. Talk like that was what convinced them to buy their last piece of AV equipment.

"Yeah, we kind of wasted last year's sponsorship on the engineering kits." Will voiced his opinion as they all reached their lockers. "The kits were cool, but you can't really do too much unless you get the professional ones."

The previous year, their first year in AV, the club founder paid for the kits they'd all chosen from a catalog Mr. Clarke gave them. The kits came with soldering irons and motors and wires and what not. It was cool at first, but it didn't quite live up to the visions of robot building they'd had in their heads.

"We should have went with the radar gun, or even the metal detector." Lucas slammed his locker shut as he waited for the others. "We could have searched near the quarry, maybe we could have found something worth some money."

Mike shook his head at the notion. "Doubt it." He too had finished swapping out his books. "The quarry is for limestone, wouldn't show up on a metal detector. Besides if there was anything there worth digging up besides the minerals then the Sattler Company would have found it by now."

"And don't mock the kits." Dustin came up behind Will as the boy finished gathering the books he needed for homework. "They come in handy." He clapped the smaller boy on the back as he moved down the hall.

"Sure." Will mumbled under his breath as he shut his locker too. "Maybe if the vacuum breaks, again."

Laughter sounded behind him and Will was suddenly being steered down the hall with Lucas's arm thrown over his shoulders. "Yeah, his mom really needs to clean that thing out more often. All that cat hair stuck in the gears and twisted around wires. It was gross."

Will could feel the shudder that wracked through his friend at the memory.

"The soldering iron did come in handy though when she pulled out the wires trying to clean it out." Mike came up on Will's other side. They all laughed as they watched their toothless friend dart down the hallway.

"First one to Clarke's gets two votes!" Dustin yelled as he turned the corner.

Since the group was even in numbers their votes often came up as ties. It lead to a lot of odd compromises, but sometimes they allowed someone an extra vote. It was usually only for special occasions, like the birthday boy got two votes on what they did or what they ate.

"What?! That's not fair. No! You don't!" Lucas ripped his arm off Will's shoulders and chased after Dustin, his arm smacked across the back of Will's head as he did.

"Ow." Will rubbed the crown of his head as Mike laughed.

"You okay?" Mike smirked at the smaller boy.

"I'm fine, jerk." Will jabbed his elbow into Mike's side as his friend continued to laugh at him. It didn't hurt him at all. He still laughed at him.

"Come on, let's go catch up to them before Lucas strangles Dustin."

When they caught up to their friends, the two were surprisingly not fighting. Lucas would usually have Dustin in a headlock by now, but instead of the usual scene they found the two peering around the corner by Clarke's classroom.

"What's going on?" Will stepped around his friends to see what they were looking at.

From where he stood in the hallway he could see straight into Clarke's room. The door was open giving them a perfect view of Mr. Clarke's desk. The teacher sat at his desk, talking to a student.

Chunky black boots, dark curly hair and a black bomber jacket. It was Veronica.

"Shh!" Both Dustin and Lucas took a handful of his jacket and yanked Will back behind the lockers they were hiding behind. They could hear the voices from the classroom.

"It's just a hypothetical question. I'm reading this book and it's been mentioned a few times but I was wondering about the reality of it. How would the science behind it work?" Will watched as Veronica shifted all her weight onto one foot and crossed her arms in front of her body. It was a stance he'd seen her take before, one she used when she seemed to be deep in thought.

"Well, as you know from your textbook, when light bounces off an object and hits your eyes your brain interprets color, brightness and other variables to represent what we think of as sight." Mr. Clarke stood from his seat and turned to the chalkboard behind him.

Will couldn't see what the man was drawing but he did so with excitement. His hands moved in long strokes and wide sweeping arcs as he drew on the board.

"Let's say this apple. The reflection of light is what allows us to interpret the size, the redness, the visible texture. But what if there was no reflection? What if the process was disrupted?" Clarke picked up an eraser and whipped some if off the board before redrawing.

"So you're saying that invisibility can be achieved by the absorption of light?" Veronica had leaned in to get a better look at the drawing, her hands lay flat in Clarke's desk as she stood staring at the board.

"Why are they talking about invisibility?" Will asked himself aloud, not expecting an answer but getting one anyway.

"I don't know, but they were already talking about it when we got here." Lucas was the one who'd answered him "It's why we stopped to listen. Recon." The words were whispered as the conversation in the room was still happening.

"Not necessarily. The color black absorbs all light and reflects none but you can't make something invisible by painting it black. No absorption won't work. Avoidance is key. If you can direct light around an object," the man went back to the chalk board and drew. "Channel it around the object and then spit it back out opposite the direction the light came from originally then the object in the middle would then disappear to the observer."

"Invisibility." The girl drummed her fingers against the desk for a moment, eyes focused on the board across from her.

"Indeed. But there are other ways too. Something can just mimic the image behind it, the way that a chameleon would." Clarke dropped the chalk and eraser back onto the little ledge at the bottom of the board and dusted his hands a bit. The man looked back at the girl with a smile.

"I actually think that the first explanation fits what happens in the book. Thanks, Mr. Clarke. I appreciate you explaining that to me." She pushed off from the desk and waved goodbye as she headed for the door.

"No worries. It's my job, literally. You're always welcome to ask me anything you need to, my door is always open. I'll see you tomorrow, Veronica." Will watched as the man began to wipe away the images he'd drawn on the blackboard.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Clarke." The girl paused as she reached the doorway. "Actually, Mr. Clarke?" She turned her back to Will and the other boys.

Will didn't think she'd seen them. He'd been scared for a moment when she'd been standing in the doorway. Like she stopped because she noticed them spying.

"Yes?" Veronica was blocking the door so Will couldn't see Clarke's frame though he heard his voice.

"Do you know if there's a film or photography club on campus?" Will watched as she pulled on the single strap of her bag that hung on her right shoulder, he had never seen her use the second strap. She seemed to be playing with the buckle there, the way Dustin did sometimes.

"Oh? I'm not too sure. I know there's a club at the high school, they even have a black room. But I don't think we have one. Are you interested in photography?"

"I'm not that interested in it, I was just wondering if the school had access to any video cameras they'd be willing to lend a student."

Will looked to his friends knowing they were all thinking the same thing. They had access to a camcorder.

"The AV Club has one in its inventory, it was donated by a former student about two years ago." Will heard Mr. Clarke echo his thoughts.

"And I can use it?" He heard the girl ask, her back still to the boys. She'd stepped back into the room and stood near Clarke and his desk again.

Lucas shrugged. Dustin nodded his head enthusiastically. Will turned his head to Mike and gave a single nod. Their unofficial Party leader swept his gaze around the group gathered in the hall.

"Okay, if she's in that means full member. She needs to be involved in club activities and Party activities, she can't just use our stuff and ditch us outside of school." The Dungeon Master had spoken. Will and the others followed behind Mike as he led them into the classroom.

Clarke had started speaking as they walked in, he sounded hesitant. "Well, the alumnus was very adamant that the AV Club members are the only ones allowed to use the donated equipment." He looked to them as they entered the room.

Veronica hadn't noticed them walk in behind her. Will watched as she straightened her spine in response to the teachers words. Will wondered if she'd give him a piece of her mind the way she did with the students. "Oh? Well that's bul-"

"You can use it!" Dustin shouted in a bid to stop the words that were coming out of her mouth. They'd all noticed that she had a bit of a foul mouth. She cursed a lot. And she'd been good about avoiding saying anything in front of teachers before but Dustin, like Will, had sensed that she'd been about to break that lucky streak.

She spun around on the balls of her feet, turning to the gathered group with a raised brow. Will noticed she didn't seem surprised to see them there, maybe she had seen them out in the hall? Or heard them enter behind her?

"You guys are in the AV Club?" Her voice seemed genuinely curious. Her eyes flicked between the group of boys and the teacher.

"We _are_ the AV Club." Lucas walked over to a desk as he spoke. He dumped his backpack on the seat and then made his way to Mr. Clarke who held out a magazine for the boy.

"But if you want to use the camera you have to join too." Mike and Dustin followed Lucas's lead and grabbed a catalog from Mr. Clarke.

Will watched as Veronica watched his friends. He noticed her glance at Clarke who just smiled and shrugged in response to whatever questioning look she'd given him. Then she turned and fixed himself with her dark stare.

"What exactly does joining entail? I have commitments I have to keep after school, I can't always be available for meetings." She was looking at him as she said it.

Will looked at his friends who were all huddled up around a couple of desks they'd pushed together. They were all flipping through the catalog, excitedly shoving pages in each others faces and avidly avoiding looking at Will.

They'd all already made their decisions in the hallway. In fact they'd already made the decision on the very first day they met her.

Veronica was an outcast. She was always alone. All the other students talked about her. She always had a semi-scowl on her face, but they could tell that she seemed worried and sad sometimes. They'd talked about that a few times in the safety of Mike's basement.

It must be hard to move to a new town and a new school and not know anyone. It was even worse for her as she'd pissed off one of the most influential kids in the school on her first day here.

Because of Will.

Because she protected him.

Will had felt guilty about that first day since he'd noticed the way the other students treated her. They ignored her in class, taunted her in the halls. He'd heard a few racist slurs thrown her way.

And that was his fault.

He just wanted to make it up to her.

He didn't know a thing about her, but he could tell that she was a good person.

Will walked up to Mr. Clarke and accepted the catalog he'd offered him. He also swiped up another one from the desk. Mr. Clarke grinned at him as he did so.

"It just means you have to be our friend. Hang out, talk and whatever else you feel like doing." Will extend his arm out, offering her a magazine too.

She stared at him for a long moment. "That's all?"

"That's all." He met her brown eyes without wavering.

Will watched as a smirk settled across her lips. She suddenly snatched the catalog from his hand and started examining the cover. "Man you guys are too nice. I would have charged cash. You want equipment you have to pay. Cash. Upfront."

She flipped the cover over and started skimming through the pages. "Now what exactly are we looking for?"

"I feel like we should go back to her suggestion. I think she should pay. You know, like, club dues." Lucas smacked Dustin's cap off with his own rolled up magazine even as the boy still spoke.

"Man, stop being dumb." Lucas unrolled his catalog and turned to a page he'd dog eared. "We're looking for equipment to buy as this year's AV project. But look no further, because we know exactly what we want." Will watched as his friend showed the rest of the group and Mr. Clarke the advert. Will watched as Mike and Dustin nodded along in agreement.

"Wicked." Veronica seemed to like it too.

They were definitely ordering that.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

Dawn had been in the living room when she'd gotten home. "Hey! You guys are back early. I'd have thought you'd be gone for another hour. Xander! Willow! They're back!" She'd swept her eyes toward the door Veronica had slammed behind her on her way in. "Where's everyone else?"

Veronica hadn't answered. She'd just chucked off her jacket and tossed it onto the dining room table. She'd ran the whole way back from the cemetery. She'd been boiling underneath the jacket. Taking it off didn't help. She knew the heat was coming from her magic, not her body.

Dawn tried again. "Did something happen?"

Willow came down the stairs, Xander and Andrew came in from the kitchen. "So? How'd it go-what's wrong?" Xander sent a questioning look to Dawn who'd been looking out the window, no doubt searching for the others.

Veronica darted past them all and made her way down the hallway.

"The others aren't here. Veronica won't tell me why." Veronica had already turned the corner with every intention of just storming down the basement stairs.

She'd just wrapped her fingers around the door knob when a hand reached out for her shoulder. She felt her body tense and flinched away from the touch before she'd even realized anyone had been reaching for her.

"Don't touch me." She slid her gaze to the side, eyes settling upon Willow whose hand was still extended toward her.

Veronica could see the hurt in the older woman's eyes. Willow had been very open with the young witch, happy to have someone around who was also magically inclined. She'd been kind and gentle, it reminded Veronica a bit too much of Watcher Price for her to reciprocate any friendly feelings. Like the airiness of her voice and her babbling was hiding something, a guilt or darkness, as it had in her previous magic tutor.

She kind of liked Willow. She didn't know if she could trust her, but seeing the hurt on her face made her feel bad.

Veronica looked toward the door, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side of it. She touched her forehead to the wood, eyes closed as she tried to calm herself. "Nothing is wrong. They're still at the cemetery. I had an incident with my magic, I just need to be alone." She pulled the door open a few inches before it was unceremoniously shut again.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. Hold up there." Xander's voice came from above her head. He'd stopped the door with his hand. "You have to tell us a little more than that. What was the incident?"

Veronica tugged in the door again, but it didn't budge under his hand. She opened her eyes but didn't remove her head from the door. "I lost control, okay? I was hurt and my magic reacted to the danger. I sort of tossed them back a few feet. They're fine. Okay? They're fine."

They were alive. They didn't know just how close they'd come to being incinerated but they were fine. A few bumps and bruises was better than being a pile of ash.

"Wait, did you walk all the way here from the cemetery?" Dawn had joined the interrogation again.

_Yay_.

"I didn't even think about that. Did you run into any Bringers?" Willow's voice was worried, it was also closer than it had been before.

"_Did_ you run into any Bringers? Did they kill you? Are you The First? Is that why you won't let anyone touch you?" Andrew spoke a second before he jabbed his finger into her back, right between her shoulder blades, and touching bare skin.

Veronica jumped at the contact, flinging herself flat against the door and away from his touch. Xander flung himself away from the door at her sudden movement. Willow too had taken a few steps back.

"Ouch! What the hell? You burned me." So the heat wasn't just in her head then.

"I just need to be alone, okay. Let me cool off. Literally." With that she swung the door open and slammed it shut behind her. She could hear their protests but ignored them, she locked the door. She tossed up a barrier while she was at it, to make sure they stayed out.

She just walked down the stairs and sat on the bare floor. She stared at the target against the far wall for a bit before she let herself fall to her side.

Veronica lay curled up on the basement floor. The skin of her shoulders and arms rested against the floor, her cheek too, she let her hair fan out behind her in a mess of curls. She let the cold from the concrete seep into her skin, let it chase away the heat that lingered in her from the cemetery.

She'd been laying there in the dark for about an hour.

She'd heard the others return and she could hear bits and pieces of their discussion about her but she ignored it, or tried to. It was a bit hard to tune them out when they were directly above her and her Potential hearing allowed her to hear through the thin layer that separated them.

They were arguing about who to send to check on her. Buffy thought she should be the one to do it, Dawn mentioned that Willow should probably go as it was a witchy problem she was dealing with.

She curled up on herself further. Letting her knees brush across her chin. She let her hands settle across her ears and tried to ignore the words from above her. She pressed palms against her ears harder as the echoes of the fight in Cardross kept repeating in her head as well.

Veronica felt a tingling sensation creep down the nape of her neck and continue along her spine. The gentle probe of magic made her shiver. It wasn't physically touching her, it was actually feeling out the barrier she'd left by the door, she just felt the foreign power roll across her barrier as if it had been her core.

Willow was going to take down the barrier. Veronica let her. She figured she had cooled down enough that she was ready to talk to the Witch about her magical outburst.

She wasn't surprised when she felt the barrier drop, nor when she heard the sound of feet coming down the stairs behind her. And the Potential could feel the vibrations through the floor as the Witch made her way to where Veronica was curled up.

She opened her eyes only to meet a pair of thick black biker boots. She was a little more than surprised to realize that it wasn't Willow they'd sent down to talk, not Buffy either, but Spike.

"I'm not here to talk to you, don't worry. This is just my resting spot for the day. Sun's gonna come up in a bit. I would have gone to the usual place but there's no time at the moment. _Something _came up and cut our time short."

She watched as he shoved aside a few boxes and made room for the folded cot to fit against the far wall.

"Not here to talk, my arse." She watched as he threw a few sheets on the cot and grabbed a pillow from the corner table. She played the words back in her mind. "Ass." The British term had slipped in there on accident, probably due to Spike's own accent.

"You know I've heard the accent a few times when you speak, it's very subtle but sometimes you slip up and say something a certain way or say a certain phrase. Why is that?"

He was trying to make her feel comfortable by avoiding the topic he knew he should be addressing. He was lulling her into a false sense of security.

"I had a Watcher like all the others, you know that. I was Council raised, you know that too. Stop playing mind games, it's not going to work." She'd dealt with the fucking master of mind games all her life, she was beyond tired of them.

"Actually, I didn't know that. The others haven't been too up front with all the information they'd gathered since I'd been gone."

Veronica watched him as he made his bed. His back had stiffened at her words just slightly, like it was a surprise. She couldn't tell if he'd been faking the reaction though. She did notice the tension between him and the others, especially Giles.

She didn't know what to believe. She just hummed in response. Maybe she'd go along with it for a while.

"They just said that you were both a Witch and Potential, which I didn't think was possible." No one had, it was the reason why the Council insisted on having her raised within their ranks, and raised by such an experienced Watcher. They wanted their future super powered Slayer to be taught by the best possible Watcher, the one who had mentored several of the longest lasting Slayers in recent history.

"He was English, from Eton, he spoke the Queen's English. There were a couple of American Watchers, nannies really, in the beginning. They did the stuff he deemed too beneath him. Changed my diapers, fed me, potty trained me, and taught me how to speak. They were gone by the time I was five. The accent started to bleed in when it was just Blake and I."

"And he was killed by the Bringers, then? Sorry for your loss." He sat on the cot with his back to the wall. He balanced his hands on his propped up knees a cigarette in hand.

"He was killed in the bombing of Council Headquarters." Spike exhaled a cloud of smoke, the smell of it brought back memories of the bombing. She cleared her head of those thoughts.

She didn't need anymore traumatic memories floating around in her head.

"And he was an asshole. He's better off dead."

The Vampire stared at her long and hard as he took another drag of his cigarette. She met his stare with a blank face.

He exhaled again blowing a cloud of smoke in her direction. She didn't even bat it away.

"So what's your deal? You obviously aren't afraid of me. You're in a room alone with a Vampire, your pulse is even and there's no tension in your frame." He waved the hand with the cigarette in her direction. "I'm no Warlock, but I just blew a cloud of smoke in your face and brought up your dead abusive Watcher and I haven't seen even a flicker in your eyes, that speaks of your control."

"How do you know about that?" She never told anyone about the abuse. She'd never even explicitly said anything to Margaret Price.

"The abuse? Not hard to gather. Seen scars across your arms and back."

"Scars? That's the big indicator? Scars? Buffy has scars, and as far as I know she wasn't abused."

"Yes, Buffy has scars but she's been slaying a long time, those scars show her experience. The Slayer healing doesn't get rid of everything. But it's not just that. It's the way you tense around Giles and Xander, though it's less pronounced around the young one. You trust him more. You're oddly formal, you don't really look them in the eyes either. You take pain well, saw how you slammed into a tombstone tonight and you haven't once mentioned the pain."

Veronica looked down at her elbow to see that it was already bruised, a deep purple, almost black. To be honest with herself she'd genuinely forgot about it, the pain didn't even register anymore. "Do the others know?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p' particularly loud, he spoke through the smoke escaping his lips.

"Why not?"

"It's not really something that needs to be shared with others, even the Slayer. It's not her business." He took another drag. "Unless I make it her business."

She gritted her teeth. "What do you want?" She already knew what he wanted. He wanted to know what went on earlier that night.

"I want to know why you were so hot." Veronica raised a brow at the Vampire before her. That was an unexpected question.

His face pulled into a grimace, his nose wrinkled as his words sunk in.

"Bullocks, that didn't come out right. I'm not a pedo. I want to know why," he waved his hand around while he searched for a word. "Why heat, literally, rolled off your skin. Your eyes glow, you shoot sunlight from you damn hands. I've lived a long time, I've known my fair share of Witches. They don't do that. I want to know why, why you? How?"

"I don't know." It was the truth she didn't know why.

"Don't play games. Just answer my questions and I don't go and tell Buffy about you Watcher."

"I mean it, I don't know why or how. I just _do_."

He scoffed at her words.

"Don't scoff at me! Don't be stupid. Do you really think the Council included me in all of their little discussions? Do you think I did anything besides what they told me to do? No. They didn't and I couldn't." She pushed herself up from the floor, so she sat facing him.

"I don't know why I'm both a Witch and a Slayer. I just studied magic and trained when they told me to. My other Watcher, Price, just showed up one day and insisted I learn the sun spell and then she explained how spells can be altered by altering your will and intent. So we tweaked the spell until I could do it without incantations and shoot beams out of my hands and change the heat levels and wavelengths. I thought it was just normal Witchcraft I didn't know that shit like that was impossible until the bombings happened and I'd spent time with the coven in Devon."

She actually had a feeling that the Devon Coven knew more than they were letting on.

"And now that I know that what I was doing was impossible, I can feel it inside me. The sun spell, the heat, it's just beneath my skin. All the time. I don't know why or how but it's there. I can feel it. And when I'm scared or angry or hurt it just lashes out, and I can't always control it. But I'm trying, I swear. I'm trying. I controlled it tonight. I controlled it tonight." Her vision blurred and she realized that she'd been crying. Teardrops dripped from her chin to her chest.

"What would have happened if you had lost control?" Spike had stubbed out the cigarette sometime during her rant. He'd pushed himself off the wall and sat on the edge of the cot leaning in toward her.

She didn't answer the question, she just wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"Veronica. Look at me." He snapped his fingers to get her attention. "What would have happened if you had lost control?"

"It would have escaped. I don't know if it would have been just sunlight or if it would have been the heat. But I could have killed you, and burned everyone and everything around me into nothing but dust." She would have killed them all.

"Has this happened before?"

"Once. While I was being attacked by a group of Vampires in Scotland. They burned to dust, the stake by my feet had burned to ashes and my knife had melted down. There were scorch marks on the ground. I incinerated them all at once. I don't know how my clothes made it out okay." She'd never actually questioned that before.

"Magic is fickle that way. Usually protects the user unconsciously. You wouldn't have liked being out in the open, full monty, your magic reflected that."

She hummed in response, still mulling over that thought.

"Did you think I was one of them?" His voice was quieter than it had been, a little less commanding and less sure than he had been just a moment before.

"I thought you all were. You were touching my neck, where they'd attacked me. Someone was holding my head, they'd pulled my hair. Someone was holding down my legs. It was just too many hands and I was in pain. From hitting my head on the barrier."

They both sat in the silence that followed.

"Are you going to tell them?"

"I have to. It's too much of a risk not to tell them. I won't mention your Watcher but they need to know about the sun thing."

"Okay."

"Okay."

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 12th, 1983**_

Veronica sat in her bedroom, camcorder on her lap and aimed at her hand.

She couldn't use a glamour to make herself invisible. They didn't work that way and she didn't have the same power behind them since she'd gone off world. She'd been able to do a full fledged glamour when she'd first landed in 1980. She remembered hiding her scars and the doctors and nurses hadn't felt them either, full glamour. But after that first day her power had dimmed, whatever latent magic she'd siphoned from her own world had dissipated with use. Now she was working off her own magical core. She could only really change colors and textures, small stuff.

Runes wouldn't have worked either. She barely managed to put together a runescript that would hide the tattoo underneath a small glamour that projected the unmarked skin that sat beneath her watch. With her limited knowledge of rune work it would be a long process. And if somehow she did manage to make a script that did create invisibility she didn't know if she wanted to carve into herself. And her clothes.

And unfortunately she wasn't Harry Potter, so she didn't have an invisibility cloak.

She had to achieve what she wanted with what she had.

She let her eyes go gold and willed her hand to glow.

Veronica knew that for whatever reason she was able to produce light from her body. Perhaps she could learn to control the light around her. Bend it to her will, make it avoid herself completely.

She pointed a bendable lamp at her hand and stared hard at the beams meeting her skin. She willed her magic to bend the light, absorb the light, something, anything.

"Come on. Come on."

The lightbulb popped and the glass hit her skin and bed.

"Fuck!"

It was going to be a long process.

—

**Author's Note: **Yay! Chapter up! Sorry that it took so long for those who have been waiting. I've just really been contemplating how the story should go. I feel like I've spent too much time building things up. I'm 50,000 words and season 1 hasn't even started yet. I'm deciding whether or not I should speed things up a bit or let her settle into the group and the town a bit more before the season starts.

**P.S. **Also it might seem like I'm adding in random conversation and focusing on odd everyday things but it will definitely tie in to the plot later.

**P.P.S. **Will definitely have the next chapter up by the end of January. Promise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything Buffy related that's all Joss and Co. Nor do I own Harry Potter. I do quote the book, that belongs to J.K. Rowling. Also reference The Exorcist, not mine either. And I quote Machiavelli.

**Spoiler: **Flashback scenes take place during Season 7 Episode 13: The Killer in Me.

**Trigger Warning: **mentions of child abuse, racism, homophobia and violence against those who spew them.

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry to anyone that was left waiting for my update. I was ready to post on the 31st but I really had the urge to change the way it was that same night. So I rewrote the whole thing. I will make no more promises on updates, that's unfair and it makes me look like a liar. So, anyways. I wrote all this spur of the moment and I hope you enjoy it.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

The entire house had been walking on eggshells around her. It had been a few days since the incident at the cemetery and things had been tense since then.

Spike, true to his word, had told Buffy about Veronica's problems. The PTSD- his words not hers- and the control issues she had. It lead to a long conversation with basically everyone important: Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya and Spike. Giles had still been away when they'd had the talk.

It was humiliating. Going over the attack and comparing it to the night in the cemetery. It made her feel weak.

She knew there wasn't anything that she could have done different in Cardross. She'd been physically weaker than the Vampires, she'd been inexperienced and scared. She knew that there was not much she could have done to change the outcome and still come out alive.

She didn't think herself powerless or helpless. Not physically or magically. If she had been, she would have been dead.

No, she was weak mentally, emotionally, psychologically. And to her that was worse.

She'd always been physically weaker than Watcher Blake. Smaller, younger, weaker. But she'd always been resilient. She accepted her past as facts. She knew she couldn't change anything that had happened so she just _moved on. _It was her thing. Emotional detachment.

Blake hit her harder than necessary during spars, she watched the bruises heal and continued training. He made her run laps until she collapsed, she picked herself back up and did the same thing all over again the next day. He called her names, yelled at her and taunted her and she just looked at him with a blank face. She pushed through it and moved on.

But that one night, those Vampires, they shook her in ways that Blake was never able to and she didn't understand why. They were soulless creatures. They did evil things every day and she'd expect no less than evil when facing them in the flesh. It was in their nature. Her Watcher was a human man, one meant to train her, protect her and raise her. It was supposed to be more shocking and traumatic that she was abused by someone meant to protect her.

She'd always thought of it that way. She'd always embraced the thought of death at the hands of a Demon, because death at the hands of her own Watcher seemed unusually cruel.

Yes, she almost died in Scotland and it was violent and traumatic but it hadn't seemed any worse than anything else she'd experienced up until then. In fact it was something she'd sort of hoped for. She hadn't even felt much trauma after the fact. Not until that night in the cemetery.

It was like the floodgates had been opened. She didn't even know that the attack had affected her so much.

She wasn't used to feeling that way.

Helpless. Weak. Vulnerable.

She'd lost control of her emotions and lost hold of her reign on her powers as well. And that was not okay. Not in her book. She just needed to _move on. _

But she couldn't when everyone kept looking at her like she'd just break into tears or shred everything to pieces at the drop of a hat.

The other Potentials gave her a wide berth, and it wasn't like they'd been chummy before.

The only Potential that she interacted with regularly was the new one they'd brought in from China. Chao-Ahn.

Giles was utterly useless as a translator, he called himself rusty but that was an understatement. Veronica knew Mandarin but it turned out the girl actually spoke Cantonese. Mandarin and Cantonese shared the same written words just completely different tones and pronunciations. So Veronica was at least able to write to the girl, despite the lack of verbal communication available. Chao-Ahn gravitated toward her by default.

"Scoot over, you're in the middle." Chloe opened up the door to the backseat of the car.

Now that Giles had returned, and with two new Potentials, it was time for another group outing.

Veronica had skipped that last one. She'd spent the night in the basement listening to a couple of CDs Spike had let her borrow. The other girls had apparently gone to a Demon bar and collectively killed a Vampire. Veronica was glad to have been left behind for that lesson. Another Vampire encounter so soon didn't exactly seem like a good idea.

Also, apparently while Veronica was downstairs familiarizing herself with the intricacies of Rock, the others thought Dawn was a Potential. There had been arguments and spells and whatnot going on above her and she hadn't even noticed, too enthralled by the music to care even if she had.

The music was good. So much better than the Classical stuff she'd been hearing for the past ten years of her life. It was new and awesome and beautiful.

The point was, she'd missed one group outing. She wasn't allowed to miss another. Hence her sitting in the back, right behind the driver's seat. Chloe stared down at her, waiting for the younger girl to move.

It wasn't going to happen.

"Not happening." She was getting a window seat, she wasn't going to be trapped between two people she didn't even like. She could really only stand Kennedy and she wasn't even going. She refused to ride middle seat.

She could hear Molly and Rona fighting over who was driving the first shift, both girls wanting to. The voice above her brought her focus back to the problem at hand. "You're the smallest. You either get the middle or the trunk. You're choice."

She looked up at Chloe with a scowl. The older girl let a smirk spread across her face.

So she was stupid as well as weak.

Chloe had seen Veronica's physical retaliations with the other Potentials before she'd gone off to ShangHai with Giles. Veronica had overheard the girls telling her about the magical conniption. So Chloe knew Veronica was physically able to overpower her and magically volatile yet she was still deliberately provoking her.

_Stupid. _

Either that or she was running off some kind of self important high from her trip to China, like she'd been taken because of her ability or skill. She hadn't.

That or she was underestimating Veronica because she thought the younger girl was still mentally vulnerable. Veronica had her wall built back up the night the incident happened, she wasn't dwelling on the accident, not consciously at least.

"My choice? Well, then I'm staying here."

"Move, before I make you."

"Make me? I'd like to see you try."

The older girl moved to grab Veronica's shoulder, shove her over maybe. Veronica turned to face the girl, avoiding her hand and taking hold of the wrist that hovered by her face. She locked her own hand around the girl's wrist the best she could, her hand couldn't close around it though. Veronica let the heat she always held back poor into her hand. Slowly, as to not burn the other girl. Not too badly anyway.

The older Potential yanked her hand back and cradled it to her chest. A pink handprint marked her arm. It would fade in the next few minutes. Veronica had barely put any power behind it at all.

"Touch me again and I'll up the ante. Then you'll end up like Molly." Veronica pointed behind her shoulder toward the boot of the car.

They could both hear Molly's muffled yelling from inside the trunk. That and her fists pounding against the lid. It seemed as though Rona had won the argument.

Chloe rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. "Psycho." She rounded the back of the car to let Molly out.

"'It is better to be feared than loved if you cannot have both.'" She spoke the words before pulling a book from the bag at her feet.

"Ah, Machiavelli." Giles paused at her open door. "Are you, uh, currently reading The Prince?" He shut the door softly before resting his hand on the open window.

Giles had been hovering around her since the others told him about her outburst. Which was strange because he'd been hesitant around her since they'd met. Veronica had brushed it off as not being used to children, or not being used to children with a personality like hers.

Veronica was quiet and she tended to be intense. She'd never really had to interact with anyone besides her Watcher or the Council therefore was a little socially challenged. Blunt. Unable to put up with niceties or stupidity for long. Too intelligent for her age. Too observant and cynical as well.

It all put people off. The Potentials, the Devon Coven, and Giles. The Scoobies didn't seem very put off though, she'd heard them mention that she seemed like a younger but more stoic 'Faith' and that apparently allowed them to deal with her better. Anya and Spike were Demons, past or present, so they'd dealt with worse.

Giles's weariness was no skin off her back, she didn't need another Watcher looming over her. He'd been wary from the start and she hadn't really put too much thought into it, until he began to try to be more friendly towards her after the incident.

It was both suspicious and annoying.

"No. I've read it before though." She didn't look at him as he loomed over her, she tried to focus on reading the first page of the book and not the shadow he cast on her.

"In Italian?" She gritted her teeth.

"In English." She had to start at the top again because she hadn't been able to remember anything she'd just read.

"Oh. Well, what are you reading now?" She rolled her eyes and audibly showed her annoyance with a sigh. She lifted her book up to show him the cover, thumb tucked into the pages.

_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone._

"Is that one of the ones you brought from Headquarters?" She cracked the book open and continued to read hoping he'd get the message.

"It's Dawn's. She let me borrow it. It's not like the Council would have a children's book in their library of demonology and magic tomes."

"Yes. Yes, you're quite right." He stood there for a moment, staring at her.

"Well then," he raised his voice, directing it to all the Potentials. "Let's get going. We have a long drive ahead of us."

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 13th, 1983**_

"You're going to each lunch with us today, right?" Veronica paused, her hand hovering over the book she needed for her next class.

She turned away from her locker to meet the eyes of one Will Byers. They were almost the same height, her being slightly taller, so their faces were actually level with each other. She liked that. She was used to being towered over by everyone, it felt nice to be at least on level with someone.

She turned back to her locker to swap out that last book. "Yeah, I'm done with the self exile." She looked back at him with a smirk on her face. "Besides, it's a lot more convenient for you guys if you no longer have to stalk me from afar."

He went pink in the cheeks, his blush spreading from his face down to his neck. "What? No! We didn't, we weren't-" Will seemed to hunch in on himself, pulling at the straps of his bag and hiding his eyes with his unfortunate haircut. "I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes and shut her locker. She hadn't thought he'd take her teasing so seriously. "I'm kidding. Kind of. You guys aren't as stealthy as you think you are, but it's okay."

She hesitated. She wasn't really one for comforting others. She let her hand hover over his shoulder before patting him a couple of times. "Really, it's fine. Two more years from now and it wouldn't be, but you're good now."

"Huh?" He'd straightened up, but the blush was still there.

"Nothing. You're fine." She looked up and down the hall wondering where the rest of the little nerd herd was. "Where are the others?"

"Oh, they're in the cafeteria. Today's pizza day, it always runs out first. They're saving us a spot in line."

Veronica led them both down the hall towards the cafeteria. "I'm good. I brought my own lunch but I'll join you in line."

She'd stopped by Benny's on her way to school. It wasn't exactly _on her way_, it was actually in the opposite direction, but his burgers were _so _good. With all the energy she'd been burning while training she'd reactivated the ole Slayer metabolism. So she was a frequent visitor at Benny's. He handed her two burgers and an extra large serving of fries, ready to go, without her having to put in her order. She was becoming his number one customer.

"You always bring your lunch?"

"For the most part, Marianne sometimes packs me lunch, or I make my own, or I stop by and pick something up before class."

The hallway grew crowded as they rounded the bend that would lead them to the cafeteria doors. Veronica cleared a path no problem. The other students were still weary of her, they took one look before backing up. Will stuck close to her side, taking advantage of the space she created.

"Marianne? You call your grandma by her name? That's cool." He had to speak up to be heard as they entered the cafeteria, trying to talk above all the chatter in the packed room.

"Huh? You think she's my grandmother? No, she's my foster mother. I don't have any biological family. I've been assigned to her by the state. She takes care of me, they give her a stipend, though she doesn't need it." Marianne was well off, so she wasn't fostering her for the money. But she was also gone a lot, so Veronica didn't know if she was doing it for the company either.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." His words were practically a whisper but her Slayer senses let her pick them up anyway.

"It's fine. It's not like I advertise it. And it doesn't bother me, not having any family." It really didn't. She'd never had any biological family. Didn't know anything about her mother's family, didn't know who her father was. But it never bothered her. She couldn't miss what she never had.

"Wait, I thought you said you had a sister. Faith?" Veronica stopped suddenly, making Will crash into her back.

"Sorry." She mumbled to him as he rubbed at his forehead.

She forgot that she'd mentioned Faith to him. "Faith's not biological. She's family, but not biological." Faith was a bit of everything. Mother. Sister. Father. Child. She'd had friends in the other Scoobies, especially Andrew, and she would call them family, but it wasn't the same visceral connection she'd had with Faith.

"Oh, well-"

"Oh! Look, I found them!" Veronica quickly talked over him wanting to end that part of the conversation immediately.

Faith's birthday was coming up soon. 1983. If she was in her own world Faith would have been turning three, or twenty six depending on what time she was in. She was avidly avoiding thinking about the dark Slayer and the conversation wasn't helping.

Veronica steered them toward the rest of their group. She'd noticed Dustin's hat first. She focused on that hat as she pushed through the crowd.

"Hello boys."

The three had been in conversation when they'd reached them. Mike gave her a wave in return before pulling Will into line behind him. Dustin turned and gave her a dopey smile and wave.

Lucas turned to her with a question. A very important one by his tone and the serious expression on his face. "You have to answer this honestly. What is your favorite pizza topping?"

Veronica huffed out a laugh. She raised a brow at him. "Doubt you've ever tried it."

He straightened his back, making him stand a whole two inches taller. "Try me."

"Pepperoni, pineapple and jalapeño."

All four boys made faces at that. "That sounds gross." Mike spoke up from his spot behind Lucas.

Dustin did a full body shudder while shaking his head with a resounding "no."

"It's good. _So good._ And I dip it in ranch dressing." She smiled at the look on Lucas's face.

"I do that!" Dustin held his hand out for a high five and Veronica laughingly obliged.

"That's disgusting." Lucas through his hands up in mock outrage.

"What's disgusting?" It hadn't come from any of the boys in their group.

Veronica turned around to see that they'd been joined by Troy and James. It was the former who'd spoken. James was busy looking anywhere but at her.

She had told him to leave Will alone, he hadn't listened and she showed him what happens to assholes who don't listen to her. His nose was still crooked from the last break. It hadn't been set correctly.

She thought he had learned his lesson but apparently not.

The two had already gotten their lunches. They both held their trays in front of themselves. They just came over to fuck with them.

"What's so disgusting, huh? They talking about your face, Wheeler?" Troy nudged his elbow into James's side.

The taller bully eyed Veronica for half a second before turning his gaze to Mike. "Yeah. Frog face!"

The two laughed at their own jokes while her nerds seemed to wilt before her eyes. The laughter from earlier had died down, the smiles were gone, they all shrunk into themselves. They looked so uncomfortable under the mocking gazes of those two assholes. It made her mad.

"Why don't you just take your lunches and leave." Veronica stepped in front of the two bullies, shielding the others with her form. It wasn't really as intimidating as it should have been. The move didn't really work because every boy except Will towered over her. It was really unfair.

Troy stepped in closer, trying to use his height against her. "What did you say, Maria? I don't speak Mexican."

Veronica clenched her teeth at that. She'd been getting a lot of that lately. She'd ignored all the name calling before: loser, freak, psycho. But she'd reacted once they started in on the race stuff and now they knew how to get to her.

Veronica had her mother's looks. She'd only ever seen a photo once, but she remembered it well. She had her dark curly hair, her brown eyes, her tan skin though perhaps she was a shade lighter.

She had the Hispanic look but she never really was well versed in the culture. She was raised by White people, American and British, but still white. She grew up with no culture, no identity.

She'd only really began to find out more about her background in the last few years before she went off world. She'd still been finding herself when she'd been dumped into the middle of the bigoted 80's.

It was a touchy issue for her.

"I said take your lunches and go, before I make you." Her words came out through clenched teeth.

James had enough smarts to take a step back. "I," he tapped his friend on the shoulder. "I think we should go."

Troy shook off his friend's hand and his friend's concern. "You want us to leave? I think maybe you guys should leave. Right, Toothless? Queer? How about you all just get to the back of the line, how about it, Midnight?" He reached over Veronica to poke at Lucas's shoulder.

_Racist piece of shit!_

Veronica saw red.

She grabbed at his hand that was touching Lucas. She pinched at the space between his hand and wrist. _Hard. _He whimpered a bit at the pressure, but she was careful not to break anything.

His arm went lax, trying not to pull and add anymore unwanted pressure. His body came close to hers and she took advantage of that. The tray of food hovered near her face, she took her hand and flipped it upwards so that it smacked against his face.

Pizza made contact with his face, sauce splattered outward, the other things on his tray all flew backwards. His head flung back with the force of the blow. She swept her leg underneath his and suddenly he was flat on his back, his wrist still in her hand.

The room went silent for all of a second before it erupted into a roar of noise. Kids were yelling and laughing and she heard shouts coming from the lunch ladies.

"Holy crap!" She turned to see Dustin jumping up and down with a huge smile on his face. "That was awesome!"

Troy was groaning on the floor. She released his arm and it landed on the tiling with a thud.

"You're so dead." Veronica looked to see James trying to clear the tray and food from his friend's face. He didn't move to retaliate. She could see both a fear and loathing in his eyes though.

"He's right." Mike had come up to her side. He was looking down at the mess in front of her. "You're definitely going to be in trouble."

She shrugged in response.

She knew she was definitely in trouble. Detention for sure, maybe even suspension. It really depended on the teacher that took her in.

"I was taught that this is the only way to deal with assholes." Faith had instilled that in her. A Slayer was given the strength to fight darkness in all its forms.

"Man, I wish I had a camera." Lucas came up on her other side, resting a hand in her shoulder. He squeezed once in a silent "thank you" before dropping it and nudging her side instead.

He pointed to his left. She followed his finger to see Mr. Clarke step into the room with a frown on his face. He marched over to them.

"Looks like you're not eating with us today then." Veronica turned to see Will smiling at her, eyes wide in awe.

"Sorry, boys. Maybe not for the next week." She deliberately stepped over Troy and met Mr. Clarke half way.

"I surrender." She held her hands up to him as though she were ready for cuffs.

He rolled his eyes and had her follow him to the principal's office. He let her explain what happened on the way over. He must have mentioned something to the principal too because they let her off with lunch time detention for the rest of the week.

Mr. Clarke was the man.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

"What?" She had finally reached her limit. Giles had been burning a hole into the side of her head for the last ten minutes.

The glow from the fire cast an eerie shadow across his face. Half was bathed in the orange light from the flames, the other half in darkness.

They were the only two outside. All the other girls had gone to bed already, wrapped up in their sleeping bags and inside their tents.

Veronica was sharing a tent with Chao-Ahn and Amanda. The two girls were already asleep. The Witch always had a hard time falling asleep without the help of pure physical exhaustion. She'd decided to read by the fire to not disturb them.

Rona and Molly had been out by the fire when she'd started reading. Veronica tuned out their conversation while she finished up the book. She noticed someone else settle down on a rock on the other side of the fire but paid them no mind. Eventually the girls had quieted and excused themselves. She'd glanced up to see that Giles was the only one left by the fire besides herself.

She went back to the final pages of the book. She felt his gaze in her the entire time she read. When she finished the book, she slammed it shut and confronted him.

"_What?" _

Her words seemed to startle him, like he'd been in some sort of trance. "Excuse me?"

"What is your _problem_? Why do you keep hovering over me? Staring at me? Asking me personal questions?" She set the book aside and turned to face him fully, glaring at him through the fire.

"I beg your pardon? I have done no such-"

"But you have! Ever since you've gotten back with Chao-Ahn. Ever since they told you about my little fit. What are you doing? What are you planning?"

Giles had never paid any particular interest in her before. And then all of a sudden she loses control and then he takes interest.

He looked at her the way she'd seen him look at Spike. Like he didn't know what to do with her. With either of them. She knew he disliked the Vampire. Giles thought he wasn't worth the risk his help could provide. Thought he was still dangerous. So what did it say about her, if he looked at her in the same calculating way he did a Vampire?

"Planning? Veronica, I'm not planning to do anything to you. I'm sorry if anything I've done has made you think otherwise, but I am not going to hurt you." The Watcher sighed and began to clean off his glasses with his shirt. "I don't even know what I did to make you think that."

"You're hovering. Constantly around and watching me. I want to know why. What's changed since you came back from ShangHai?" Did he think she was dangerous? Is that what the looks were about?

Giles slipped his glasses back on as he sighed. "When I came back the others told me about the accident-and I do know that it was an accident. I'm not angry nor am I planning on hurting you. I feel responsible."

"For the accident?" He hadn't even been there and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it if he had been.

"For you." His eyes bore into hers.

"You are not my Watcher." Her words came out through clenched teeth.

"But I could have been." Giles was no longer looking at the Potential in front of him, he was focused on the flickering flames of the fire.

"What does _that_ mean?" Her words were harsh, she didn't like where he was going with this.

"It means that I was originally supposed to be your Watcher. I'd had some doubts about becoming a Watcher. I dabbled in Magicks that I should not have. After accepting my path as a Watcher I was assigned to a more research oriented branch of the Council. Buffy was the first Slayer I'd ever worked with, but not the first Slayer or Potential I'd been assigned to.

"Early in '92 I'd been tasked with training and raising a newly born Potential. Now that I know that Potential was you, I quite imagine that my past magical dalliances might have been key in my assignment to you. I'd been hesitant to accept the position officially and before I could..."

"Blake became available?" She didn't really see her former Watcher voluntarily taking up the position. He had always reminded her how much of a waste of time she was, a waste of his talent.

"Yes. He had been the Watcher of the active Slayer at the time. She had just died, but she had lasted three years. Edmund Blake was a highly respected Watcher. He'd trained several fairly successful Slayers and he had quite the reputation as a Demon hunter in his youth as well. They felt under his tutelage the Potential in question could become the greatest Slayer we'd seen in modern history."

"_Fucking Hell. _That doesn't make any sense, though. There's no reason to use your 'best' Watcher on an infant. What made them so sure that I-" she pulled at her own hair. "I'm not some great Slayer. I'm still a Potential-"

"There was a prophecy." Giles cut through her rambling.

"Of course there was." _Fuck prophecies_.

"The only reason they thought it was you was the fact that you'd attracted the attention of the Potential locator while still a fetus. It would take an extreme amount of power and potential for that to happen."

"I'm not a fucking Slayer messiah. It's not me." She wasn't meant to save the world from this Apocalypse. She believed that wholeheartedly. Something in her gut told her that Buffy was the one. She was the key to fixing this whole mess.

It's why it made her so mad that everyone was questioning her leadership and skill. Couldn't they feel it too? Weren't the other Potentials connected to whatever source that powered their line too? Did they not feel the pull in their gut that said to follow her?

"I agree. Actually, I think it's Buffy."

_Thank the Gods._

"Though there is a prophecy about a two natured Slayer. I don't quite remember how it goes but there is a book of prophecies in a Council outpost somewhere."

"I'd rather not know." She really didn't want to think of that anytime soon.

He hummed in response, still staring into the fire.

"When I came back from ShangHai Spike told me that you mentioned that your Watcher, a Blake, had sent you into a Vampire nest. And that was why you lost control of your magic. You'd been traumatized by the experience. That wouldn't have happened had I been your Watcher. I'd never even known your name, only that Edmund had taken over the role of your Watcher in my stead.

"When Spike mentioned the name Blake it was as if it had all clicked into place. I'd had my suspicions before then but I wasn't sure if you were the girl until I heard that name. I should have been your Watcher. Blake should have been Buffy's. Then none of this would have happened. I would have kept you safe. You wouldn't have seen true battle until you were called. Under Edmund's training Buffy could have avoided her death at the hands of Glory. Then The First wouldn't have had the opportunity to come into power."

Veronica imagined Buffy under Blake's reign. How he would have reacted to her constant quips and penchant for ignoring orders and rules. He would have taken it out on her with staves and fists and throwing her into danger headfirst. He would have beat the spirit out of her. She didn't like the image.

She imagined what she would be like under Giles's watch. She imagined herself like violet. Coddled. Ignorant. Weak. She didn't like that one either.

"Get over yourself. You've been staring at me all day and thinking 'what if?' You think you're that important? You're not. You had nothing to do with any of this. And you can't fix anything. I'm not broken. I don't need to be fixed. Buffy's more capable of handling herself than you think. Stop letting your fear of The First cloud your judgement. Stop letting it make you question your past."

Veronica stood and snatched up the book from the rock.

_It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live._

She wasn't going to dwell on thinking of the past and what could have been. She accepted who she was though she didn't always like it. There was no use thinking the way he was thinking.

"Forget about me. Forget about the 'what ifs,' just focus on the Slayer you have. I don't need another Watcher. I don't want one."

She marched over to the tent she was sharing, unzipping the thing with a harsh pull. She stepped inside, ignoring the half coherent grumble from Amanda. She closed the tent back up and then chucked off her shoes.

"_Ugh_." Why are people so stupid?

Veronica tucked herself into her sleeping bag and shut her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep through the haze of her anger.

Giles yellled. Her body had tensed until she heard the voices of Andrew and Xander yell that they were "touching him."

_What the hell?_

Veronica closed her eyes tighter at the sounds of their conversation.

She was too mad at him right now. He could deal with whatever the others were doing on his own.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 16th, 1983**_

"What's the point of me paying you to write papers for me if I still have to physically _write the papers?" _Veronica rolled her eyes as she pushed Harrington aside and entered his house for the first time.

She was originally supposed to meet up with him at lunch that day. She'd let him know that that wasn't possible because of her detention. He'd agreed to let her come over to his place after school, his parents wouldn't be home anyway and apparently his friends had plans.

"_Hello_ to you too! My day was just dandy, how was yours? The ride over was fine, thank you for asking. You're _so_ chivalrous." Her eyes flicked across the room taking in the space.

It was nice. Cream walls, hardwood floors, leather sofas with cloth cushions and pillows, a nice lazy boy in the corner. Big open glass doors that lead into the backyard framed by gauzy white curtains. Clean. Furnished expensively but still tasteful. It looked like something out of a fancy furniture catalog.

It all looked nice but it felt staged. Unlived in. Hollow.

There was no clutter, nothing that indicated that multiple people lived there and used the space regularly. No books strewn about, or left out coasters. No worn in spots on the couch, or watermarks on the table. No pictures on the walls except for a few very generic art pieces, which were all just different paint strokes in blues and browns.

She walked further into the room ignoring Steve's snarky reply.

There was only one family picture in the room and it was one of those portraits you get done at a studio. Father behind mother behind son. Dressed in their Sunday best, hair done artfully, complementary shades of blue on each of them. No smiles though.

She was staring at the picture when he walked back into the room. "You look like your mom."

She heard him huff as he came to stand next to her. "I look like my dad."

Veronica focused on his father. They had the same coloring and he had his dad's height and jawline. But Steve was thinner than his father, a little more sinewy and lean compared to his father's broad shouldered frame. His mother was a thin and tiny thing. Blonde hair, hooded brown eyes, thin lips and sharp cheekbones. They shared their lips, eyes and cheekbones. And their hands. Long and smooth, a musician's hands or an artist's. She saw more of his mom in him.

"Sure." She turned to face him, shrugging off her backpack in the process. "Are we gonna do this or not?"

"I still don't understand why I have to write them myself."

"The teacher sees your handwriting every day. Wouldn't it be suspicious if the handwriting on your papers changed and suddenly you have better writing skills?" She'd been burned before which is why she had she had a system, she stuck with it.

Also she reused the papers in the different towns she'd been in. No use writing new essays every time when teachers everywhere used the same prompts for the same books. Less work.

"Sit." She pointed to the couch closest to the coffee table. He plopped himself down onto the cushion, leaning back and propping his feet up.

"Still not fair." His arms were crossed behind his head. He was a picture of laziness.

"Feet off the table." She shoved his legs aside and dropped a packet of paper in its place. "You're gonna need the surface."

"Whatever." He huffed and sat up straight, leaning over to take in the papers she'd set on the table. "This is the humanity thing? It seems longer than the last one."

"It _is_ longer. And I guarantee it will earn you at least a 'B'." She pulled out a couple sheets of paper, a pen, and the novel and pushed them towards him before lowering herself down opposite him. "You copy, I have to do my own homework."

Veronica didn't have any homework, but she did need to study. She pulled out a textbook from her bag.

"_Principles of Optics: Electromagnetic Theory of Propagation, Interference and Diffraction of Light."_

She had picked it up from the public library the night before. It was a bitch to get through. It was dense. _So dense. _She could make out the gist of it, but only because she'd studied similar material with Watcher Price.

She'd been able to shift the color of the light during her time with her Watcher, shifting between the wavelengths. She was lucky to have managed that without too much in-depth knowledge on the physics of it all.

Maybe she should start by seeing if she can manipulate the path of the light she produces from herself first, before continuing with the foreign stuff.

Veronica rubbed her thumb across the palm of her hand, remembering the small shards of glass that had pierced her skin.

No the foreign stuff wasn't working.

They worked in silence for the next fifteen minutes. The flipping of pages and the constant scribble of pen and pencil was their soundtrack. The near silence was nice. There was no tension in the room, no awkward fidgeting or side eyes.

"Did all this really happen in the book? The government watching everyone, controlling everything, saying who can and can't marry, not being allowed freedoms? It kinda sounds like the Soviets."

Veronica looked up from the passage she'd been reading. She was sort of surprised by his question. She hadn't expected him to pay much attention to the contents of the actual essay. Let alone want to talk about it.

"Sounds like every government that's ever existed." Veronica set the heavy textbook down on the table between them.

Veronica had a problem with institutions of authority. The Watchers Council who trained her to be a soldier from birth and put her in the hands of an abuser for 10 years, the U.S government from her home dimension who sided with the Vampires and made Slayers illegal, and the government run facility in this dimension that was experimenting on a young Witch. She was more than a little jaded when it came to governments.

"Not us. America's always been the good guy. That's why we're against the Soviets, we're fighting against the sort of things that happen in this book." Steve jammed his finger into the book's cover as if to emphasize his words.

She studied him. Took in his pinched features and the way he had straightened himself up. He believed in what he was saying. Which was sort of sad. The guy, boy really, was nearly an adult but he was so sheltered. Too naive.

Veronica was thirteen. She should be the same age as Harrington. If she hadn't gone off world she'd be his age, but she'd never be as innocent as he was. Never have that same faith he seemed to have in authority.

"America isn't perfect. No country is. Our government watches is, we have laws that harm and control people. Hell, we only stopped segregation a few decades ago. And we don't allow gay marriage. And a whole lot of other stuff that's just bullshit." She was ranting. But it was something she felt like he needed to hear. "Can you justify any of those things, and still say we're the good guys."

He ran his fingers through his hair, disrupting the perfect coif he'd had it in. "Well, marriage is supposed to be sacred." He said it like a question. Like it was something he didn't necessarily believe but something he'd heard a hundred times over.

"Tell that to all the men and women who cheat on their partners." He seemed to flinch at her words. Like it struck a chord with him. "Try again. Nothing religious."

"They can't have kids? Isn't that the point? Get married. Have kids. Repeat?" His tone was doubtful.

"A lot of women are barren, some men sterile. Does that mean they shouldn't be allowed to marry? Come on now, you realize that there's no real reason. Just because the community is outnumbered and people are hateful. That's the reason, the only reason. Same with every other government. The powerful get to decide what's what and the rest are just suppressed until someone is willing to take a stand." She paused to take a breath.

She realized that she was getting a little too intense with the conversation. He'd asked a simple question and made a simple observation and she'd jumped down his throat. She just hated intolerance. It really reminded her of the other day too.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to lecture you. I just really hate bullies. And stupidity. With a passion. That's all it is. Stupidity on a world wide scale."

They sat in silence for a moment. Steve staring hard at the paper before him and Veronica watching him think. He met her eyes after a minute or two.

"You're really smart, you know? Nerdy but not too bad." He changed the subject.

She couldn't tell if that was a compliment. It sounded like one but she was sceptical. "_Thanks._"

He either didn't catch the sarcasm that practically dripped off her tone, or he chose to ignore it completely. He just gave her a quick nod before going back to his essay.

She didn't know what just happened. _What the fuck was going on in his head?_

—

Harrington seemed to almost be done with the essay. Veronica was copying down some notes from the text into a notebook. They were both focused on finishing up their work.

Until Steve's stomach growled.

It was loud and drawn out. It roared deeply, a low pitched growl that broke the silence. They both looked at his stomach with distaste, though his face held a look of betrayal.

"You got a Demon in there, Harrington? Do I need to get Father Merrin?" She looked up from her book still perched on the table.

Steve's hands flew to his stomach in a bid to stop the noise coming from within. "What? No, I'm just hungry." He slapped his hand against his stomach once and the grumbling stopped. "Father Merrin?"

"The Exorcist, Harrington. Classic horror film." She uncrossed her legs and stood. She paused for a second wondering if the movie had even come out yet. She wiggled her toes a bit before moving, they'd fallen asleep on her. No, the movie came out in the 70s. Maybe. She wasn't really sure.

"Are you almost done?" She came to perch on the armrest at his side. She saw that he was indeed done. "Just write the class and date up in the corner."

She watched as he did just that.

_September 16th, 1983._

"Is that the date?" She hadn't really been paying attention to the days. It had been nonstop training and monitoring and detention the last few days that she hadn't noticed the date. September 16th. It was Faith's birthday. "Fuck."

"What? You got somewhere you have to be?" He said it so dryly it sounded like her.

She would have quipped back had she not been staring at that small corner of his paper. "No, it's just someone's birthday."

"Oh, well go then. We're all finished up here. Go celebrate." He scooped up his papers and shoved them unceremoniously into his binder. He put her original paper back into its folder gently.

"I can't exactly celebrate it with that person." His movements stilled. He looked up at her with sad eyes.

He knew what that meant. Or he thought he did. He knew that she was a foster kid. So he probably assumed that whoever she was talking about was dead. She wasn't. Veronica had no real way of knowing that for sure. But she knew that Faith was out there somewhere.

Kicking ass and taking names.

"Sorry." So was she.

"You've never seen The Exorcist before?" Her voice was strained. He jumped around her change in subject.

"No, I think we have it somewhere in here." He waved his hand at the shelf of books and movies in the corner of the room. "I've just never watched it before."

She hummed, letting her eyes settle on the rows of VHS tapes. Her vision blurred and she knew that she was crying. Tears dripped down her cheeks but she didn't dare wipe at them and bring his attention to the fact that she was crying.

"Do you-" he paused. "Do you maybe want to stay and watch it?" His voice was unsure.

Maybe he had seen her crying. She blinked a few times and dabbed at her face with her sleeve. She cleared her throat before answering.

She knew what he was doing. Giving up his Friday night to babysit her. Showing the poor orphan pity. Distracting her from her pain.

It was working.

She could either accept his pity and watch a movie she watched a hundred times over with Faith or she could go back to an empty house and monitor the girl in the lab. She knew what she should do. Especially as the Slayer.

But she was feeling a little selfish tonight.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

His stomach growled again.

"You set up the movie. I'll raid the kitchen." She moved to the kitchen never letting him see her face. She rubbed at her cheeks with a napkin she plucked off the counter.

She ransacked his fridge pulling out supplies for a few sandwiches and chips and dip.

He popped his head into the kitchen with a smile. "Just so you know, I talk during movies."

She laughed, it was a bit wet like she was on the verge of tears again. And maybe she was.

"Me too."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything Buffy related, that's all Joss and Co. Nor Stranger Things. Nor the song "Should I Stay Or Should I Go" by the Clash. Nor the song described at the end.

**Spoiler: **Flashback scenes take place during Season 7 Episode 14: First Date.

**Trigger Warning: **panic attack described

**Author's Note:** It's been a long time since my last update. This is sort of a filler chapter but it's a long one so I hope I'm forgiven.

Enjoy?

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 16th, 1983**_

It was a little past eight when Harrington dropped her off at Marianne's. He pulled into the empty driveway and let the car run idle in their silence.

The house was empty, if the empty driveway weren't enough proof- the house was also the only one _not_ illuminating some kind of light on the entire street.

Her foster mother was no doubt off to courtrooms unknown. Veronica looked up at the stars in the sky, reminding herself that it was night. Maybe just an office then, doubt the courts stayed open that late. She had no idea how lawyers _lawyered_, maybe she should ask Marianne.

"You gonna be okay by yourself?" She looked at the boy beside her. He was staring out the window, leaning over the steering wheel and examining the house with narrowed eyes.

"I'll be fine." Her tone was sharper than she'd wanted. She watched as his form stiffened beside her. She sighed before trying again. "I'll be fine. Really."

The stiffness in his form slowly eased as he leaned back in his seat to face her. He stared at her for a bit and she wasn't going to lie, it made her want to squirm in her seat.

Something about the way he looked at her scared her. Something about the look made her ache, physically ache just beneath her sternum. Seeing the _concern_ in his eyes. It was so foreign to her, to see that emotion there _for her, _yet familiar as well especially on a night like this. When she couldn't stop the memories from resurfacing.

It made her want _home. _It made her _remember. And it felt too much like pity._

It scared her.

She reached for the door handle ready to escape his penetrating stare but found the door locked.

"Really?" She looked back at him to find his smug face staring back with his brows raised. "Unlock the door."

"Stop trying to run then. You don't have to be embarrassed." He turned to face her fully, his back now to his own door, seat belt unbuckled.

"I'm not embarrassed." She tugged at the handle again and flipped the lock only for it to lock again from the drivers side. "Unlock the door."

Steve kept his finger over the lock switch ready to flip it again. "So I saw you cry, big deal. You don't need to run off."

"Oh my god!" She fiddled with the lock and handle while he spoke hoping the constant attempts would magically unlock the door. She thumped her head against the window. This was beginning to feel like that time she had that meltdown in Sunnydale. "Kill me now."

"Everyone cries. And I know you have this whole tough-loner-chick thing going on, but it's okay to let it out. Everyone deals with loss differently."

It was bad enough that she broke down at his house. _Crying. _Now he was playing therapist. "What? Are you Dr. Phil or something? What's with the five stages?" She turned her head to face him, her mortification momentarily forgotten.

"My mom reads a lot of self help books, she's always quoting them. I listen. _Sometimes._"

"Hmm. Well I don't need to be therapized, thank you very much." She tried for the lock again only for him to click it before she'd gotten to the handle.

"Look, you obviously aren't okay. I just want to help." He was sincere, she just knew there was nothing he could do to help. He wouldn't understand.

She didn't lose anyone. _They _lost _her. _And she didn't know if they even knew they lost her. Was she even lost? Or was time just still until she returned? She didn't know anything. And she couldn't explain what she didn't understand herself.

It has all just been bearing down on her since she'd stepped foot into Hawkins. The Witch, the lab, Will, her past, _everything. _It was just piling up around her and there was nothing she could do but endure.

Like she always did.

She'd managed to keep herself together for three years. But she was only human, even with her supernatural extras. She had her bad days, and today just happened to be one of them.

She liked Steve. She really did. He was snarky and goofy behind that jock exterior. And it reminded her of _home. _

And she didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"Harrington, we had a moment. And you ruined it. You do not speak of the emotional breakdowns, it goes against bro code."

"Bro code?"

"Never mind. I'm fine really, I am. I just prefer to deal with things on my own."

He sighed before unlocking the door for her. "Fine. You can go." He also popped the trunk before getting out to take her bike out of the back.

Veronica quickly swung the door open and scooped up her backpack off the floor. She'd kicked out a few things Steve had littered on the floor as she stepped out. She tossed everything back into his seat, except one she pocketed as she closed the passenger door behind her.

She met him by the trunk as he slammed it shut. "You're welcome by the way." He handed her bike off to her with a mocking smile.

"Thank you." She wrapped her hands around the handlebars and turned it towards the house.

Steve went back inside the car, restarting the engine as Veronica stood there watching.

She tapped on the glass, and watched as he leaned over to crank the window down so she could speak. "The 'thank you' was for the bike and the movie, you didn't have to let me wallow at your place. And feed me, you did that too."

He grinned at her. This one was real. "You're welcome."

He started to roll up the window before she stopped him with her hand in the glass. "But if you ever mention the fact that I cried, again, I'll slash your tires."

She appreciated the concern. She appreciated that he seemed to genuinely care. But she wasn't really comfortable with the whole emotional vulnerability thing.

They traded barbs. It was what they did. It was what she was comfortable with. What she _needed_.

He rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. "Get in the damn house." He waved her away while muttering to himself.

Veronica left her bike by the porch and went inside, flipping on the light as she went. She passed the kitchen table and the note Marianne always left letting her know she'd be gone.

Veronica saw the flash of light through the window letting her know that Steve had pulled out of the driveway, his headlights flashing through the curtains.

She walked down the hall to her room and dumped out the things in her backpack.

She went around collecting her notes on the lab, her map of Hawkins, and the sketchbook and charcoals she'd been gifted from her last foster family. She shoved them all into her bag and then she was heading back outside, locking the door behind her and hopping onto her bike.

She had somewhere to be.

—

_**Sunnydale, California, January, 2003**_

Veronica _loathed_ the mall and that was saying something because she'd never been to a mall until earlier that day.

Her clothes were always picked out by her Watcher and it was all just athletic wear and something similar to a military uniform: cargo pants, combat boots and t-shirts and tank tops.

Even in Sunnydale she'd been unable to pick anything out for herself. She'd only had the clothes off her back and whatever anyone else lent her. All of her stuff had been incinerated with Council Headquarters.

She ended up with a lot of Dawn's older stuff, just the tops though. Dawn had always been tall and the legs of her pants were too long for the young potential to walk in. But she tried not to wear Dawn's clothes too often. There were a lot of bright colors and funky patterns that Veronica actively avoided.

When Chao-Ahn showed up with just as little belongings as herself she practically jumped at the chance to get herself some new stuff.

It meant a day at the mall with Giles, who she was actively ignoring and Chao-Ahn, who she could only write to. But it was worth finally choosing her own stuff.

Or so she thought.

It wasn't even Giles or Chao-Ahn that put her off the experience though. It was the people already there. So many people, _too many _people. _All_ walking too slow. Kids constantly running around and crying while their mother's just watched on doing _nothing. _

The parking lots.

The lines.

The crowds.

She hated it all.

She got what she needed and she was relieved when they finally left.

"Dear Lord, I hate that mall." Giles pushed his way into the house as Veronica and Chao-Ahn followed behind him.

Veronica agreed with him wholeheartedly but refused to speak to him so she kept it to herself. She set her bags down on the stairs and flexed her fingers a bit. She watched the red marks fade from her hands as the circulation started to kick in again. The bags weren't particularly heavy, she just had a lot of them and the handles really dug into her fingers.

"The shop assistants are rude and everyone in the food court is sticky." Veronica watched as Giles hung up his coat, complaining all the while. She spotted Buffy, Willow and Xander in the living room and gave them a quick wave. She wasn't sure if Giles was talking to her and Chao-Ahn or if he'd noticed the others.

"Looks like you found them some stuff." Willow waved, a sock in her hand, as a greeting.

"Oh. Hello. Yes." Giles shut the door before turning to the others.

Veronica dug into one of her bags and pulled out a couple boxes. She opened up the first one and pulled out a mini whiteboard, she pulled a dry erase marker from the second. She pulled the cap off with her teeth and scribbled a bit to test the ink before wiping the board clean with her hand.

"That's gotta be rough-" Veronica began to translate Xander's words the best she could. "Getting just, like, pulled out of your home, being told you're a potential Slayer, and not being able to bring anything."

"It is." She spoke with the cap still between her lips. Her muffled words were ignored as Giles answered Xander.

It _was _rough.

Veronica had never known anything but the Council. And she'd already known she was a Potential. But she had still been dumped into a world completely different from what she was used to.

She showed her board to Chao-Ahn hoping she could read the characters right, she was a bit rusty in actually writing the characters.

She watched as the older girl read as she half listened to Giles's words. She flipped the board around again and added the part about ice cream being a "universal language" before showing it again.

Chao-Ahn looked at the board before looking back at the others. She spoke to them as Veronica held the board and marker out to her. The girl wrote out her characters in a beautiful script as Veronica looked over her shoulder from the stairs.

"What'd she say?" Buffy smiled wide trying to mask her confusion.

"She's grateful to be in the land of plenty." Veronica hadn't been able read the characters the girl had written, she'd only noticed the calligraphy, but she knew Giles was lying through his teeth.

"Let's, uh, go and put away your new clothes." Veronica watched as the Watcher shooed the other Potential up the stairs. She pushed herself against the wall to make space as they passed.

Chao-Ahn passed Veronica the whiteboard as she followed Giles up the steps. Veronica read what the girl had written and rolled her eyes.

"What did she really say?" Willow nodded at the board in her hands.

"She said that she's lactose intolerant." She didn't even stay to see their reactions. "I'm going to go translate."

—

Veronica was relieved when she was finally released from translator duty.

It was her own fault, really. She'd volunteered her services but she hadn't expected to be caught in the middle of the mess that was Chao-Ahn and everyone who tried to interact with her.

The other Potentials had taken to asking Veronica to help them communicate with the newest Potential. It was odd, considering the fact that they hadn't been particularly friendly before that.

She'd spoken to the other girls more often in the last few days than she had in the entire month prior to Chao-Ahn's appearance. Every conversation with them revolved around her translating something or other.

And she was slightly offended.

Still, it was slightly better than having to translate for Giles. Giles kept talking to the girl as though she were dumb and deaf, speaking loudly and over enunciating and waving his hands about in an attempt to communicate.

She could tell that Giles felt responsible for the girl.

She'd never had a Watcher before. She hadn't known about the supernatural until the Bringers had come for her and Giles and Chloe had come barreling into her life and taken her from her home.

Veronica sort of thought that he was still looking for a new Slayer. Buffy had outgrown him. Veronica rejected the thought of another Watcher with a passion. But Chao-Ahn needed guidance in more ways than one.

Whatever the reason, he insisted on working through the language barrier on his own for the most part, dismissing Veronica's whiteboard. So she'd excused herself from the room and quickly darted into Dawn's to sort through her new clothes.

Dawn was doing homework on her bed but gave Veronica a smile as she walked in. Music was playing in the background, upbeat and poppy. "Hi."

"Hey." Veronica lifted her bags, in greeting. "I finally have my own clothes."

"Oh! Let me see what you got." Dawn patted the bedspread beside her in invitation.

Veronica hesitated before walking over and placing the bags on the bed instead of sitting down herself. Dawn rolled her eyes as she moved aside her books and peered into one of the paper bags.

"This bag is literally just black clothes." Veronica could hear the disapproval in Dawn's voice, though the girl's face was still bent over the shopping bags.

Veronica watched as Dawn began pulling out clothes.

Black pants. Black pants. Black long sleeve. Black t-shirt. Black sweater. And another pair of black pants.

"This is seriously a waste of a trip to the mall. Why couldn't I have gone? It's no fair, you Potentials don't have to go to school. Well except Amanda, I guess. Wanna swap?"

Veronica swept her eyes across the books Dawn had scattered across the bed. She eyed the sums scribbled across the notebooks and the Advanced Placement printed across a textbook.

Veronica has been educated by Watcher Blake and a few tutors from the Watchers Council. She'd been taught all the core subjects but had hated math with a passion.

Veronica met Dawn's eyes. "No, thank you."

Dawn laughed at Veronica's deadpan expression before looking through the rest of the bags.

Veronica had a few splashes of color. A burgundy sweater, another in emerald. A pair of light wash jeans. A blue top and one in a dark shade of green.

The rest of the bags were all underwear, pajamas, and athletic wear. And a pair of black and white Converse.

"Oh, what's this?" Dawn pulled out a little white plastic bag hidden away in the same bag as the shoes. Veronica watched as Dawn poured the bag over into the palm of her hand.

A thick band of black leather and suede fell into her hand.

It was a necklace she'd found in a little store in the mall. Thick enough to cover up most of the scarring that was visible on her throat.

Veronica watched as Dawn's eyes flickered down to the scars before settling back on the necklace.

Veronica tensed as Dawn leaned forward, coming up to her knees and crossing into her personal space. She held impossibly still as Dawn clasped the necklace around her throat, snug with the suede facing outward.

"You look like a total badass." Dawn smiled wide as she leaned back to take Veronica in. "Well, almost. You should change into one of your new outfits."

Veronica looked down to see the pink butterfly printed on the shirt she was currently wearing, the one she'd borrowed from Dawn herself.

It was laundry day.

"Yeah, I think you're right." Veronica pulled out a pair of black jeans and the burgundy sweater from the pile of clothes before tossing everything else back into the bags.

"Don't worry, I'll empty out a drawer for you when you come back. Just don't tell Molly." Dawn crawled back across the bed and walked over to her dresser, turning up the radio as she did.

Veronica went to go change but paused as she stepped out into the hallway.

Andrew stood out in the hall, staring a hole through Buffy's bedroom door.

Veronica looked back into Dawn's room before leaning back to shut the door behind her.

She walked up beside him but he didn't even notice.

He was too busy watching the door. Staring and playing with his hands nervously. She could tell that he was thinking hard. And she doubted that was a good thing.

"What are you doing?" He jumped around the sound of her voice, looking down in surprise to see her standing beside him.

"Wha-? I'm not doing anything! N-Nothing evil. I wasn't going to do it, I mean not really." She watched as he backed himself against the wall, stammering and flailing about all the while.

Veronica took a single step forward and Andrew flinched in response, sliding down the wall and huddling in on himself.

"What are you talking about?" Veronica let the clothes in her hands drop to the floor and balled her fists at her side, waiting for his answer to determine whether or not she should hit him.

"Jonathan! He- he came to me."

"You mean The First."

"Yes, The First. It came to me disguised as Jonathan while I was setting up the new microwave, which is really nice by the way. It was a lot harder to program than it seems, trust me. I mean Jonathan was really mean about it and-"

"Andrew! Focus." Veronica shot her arm out and grabbed his earlobe, yanking harshly in her frustration. She ignored the high pitch whine that escaped him and kept the flap of skin pinched between her fingers. "The First, what did it want?"

"The First wants me to kill all the Potentials!" His Voice was high as he spoke between his whimpers.

Veronica let him go.

She wasn't surprised that that was what The First wanted. The Potentials gone. It had been systematically eliminating the Slayer line for the past few weeks. She wasn't particularly shocked that it had chosen Andrew as it's henchman either.

She was surprised that she felt a hint of betrayal from his actions though. He'd been standing around suspiciously in the hallway, obviously up to something. And he admitted that he wasn't "_really_" going to do it.

He wasn't "_really" _going to kill her and every other Potential in the house.

The thought of following through had obviously crossed his mind though and it made her mad.

"Oww. Why are you always so mean?" Andrew rubbed at his ear and looked up at her with big wet eyes and a pout. She'd have felt sorry for him if he hadn't considered killing her.

"Me? Mean? You were literally going to kill me." She watched as something flashed across his eyes. _Regret? Shame?_

"No, I wasn't." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper but at least he wasn't on the verge of tears anymore.

"Then what were you going to do?" She was starting to lose her patience.

"I don't know." His voice was louder now, but it still sounded weak and for some reason that made her madder.

He was going to kill her and here he was playing the victim. Curled up on the floor and whining. He wasn't the victim here.

"No. You do know. What were you going to do, huh? How were you going to do it?" She had to stop herself from outright yelling but she did find herself raising her voice. She was glad that Dawn had music playing in her room and everyone else seemed to be downstairs Or temporarily deaf.

"I wasn't going to do it! I don't know what I was going to do but I wasn't going to kill anyone. It was horrible! What I did to Jonathan? I can't get it out of my head! I keep seeing his dead body in my mind and there's nothing I can do to stop it! And I-I can't do that again. I can't take another life like that again. The-the blood, and-and his eyes. I don't want that again."

He'd half yelled the whole time he spoke. Veronica opened her mouth to chime in when he cut her off, apparently not finished.

"I told you before that what I did to Jonathan was a mistake. And it's not one I'm going to make again. You said that I have to make what I did right, to prove that I'm better. Not doing what The First wants? It scares me, but it's my first step to making up for what I've done. _Redemption_."

She stared at him for a long moment. Watching his chest rise and fall rapidly from the intensity of his speech. He was panting, practically on the verge of hyperventilating. He trembled where he sat, hands shaking and his pulse beating hard in the vein at his neck.

He was a mess.

But she believed him.

"I'm going to change in the restroom. When I come out you're going to explain everything. Everything The First said. Everything you said. And when you're done we're going to go to the others and you're going to do it all over again. Understood?"

He nodded his head. "Understood."

She bent down to pick up her discarded clothes. She walked over to the bathroom but paused before she closed the door behind her.

"I'm sorry."

She could tell that he was sorry. And she could tell that she wanted to forgive him. And she didn't really like that.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 16th, 1983**_

_Duh, duh, duh. _

_Duh, duh, duh. _

_Duh, duh._

Will drummed his hands against the dashboard. He was the guitar and drums to Jonathan's vocals. He watched as his brother tossed his head to the beat of the song, his voice cracking with each sharp movement.

Jonathan sang through a wide smile.

It was rare to see his brother looking so carefree. Will knew that Jonathan had it just as rough at school as he did. Bullies. Being called a freak.

Will also knew that his brother had to deal with a lot outside of school. Jonathan worked some nights at the gas station just outside of town. And he was in charge of the house, and Will himself, when their mom was out working.

It was a lot of responsibility for one person, let alone a teen.

It was nice to see him have fun for once. Will liked hanging out with his brother. He liked the way they bonded over music. He wasn't really sure what they were listening to half the time because Jonathan never listened to what they played on the radio, but he enjoyed everything he heard.

There was something about the guitar riffs and the bang of the drums and the wailing. And his brother's smile.

"_Should I stay or should I go?!_" They both howled the lyrics out into the night.

Will watched as his brother leaned forward to turn the volume down as the next song on the tape began to play. Jonathan drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he darted a quick glance in Will's direction.

"Hey, so why'd you want me to pick you up so early? I thought you guys were planning a big campaign or something tonight."

Will shifted his eyes away from his brother and focused on the dark road in front of them instead.

"I need to clean my room before mom gets home, she asked me yesterday but I forgot." She'd actually told him the day before yesterday but she'd been working night shifts the past few days and they hadn't been home at the same time. He'd have been grounded otherwise.

"She should be home by ten, I think."

"I know. I need to finish by then, and maybe even clean up the living room while I'm at it."

Jonathan laughed glancing at Will as they came to a light. "What, do you need money or something? You don't exactly volunteer to clean around the house."

Will rolled his eyes at his brother's words. "No. I don't need money." Will watched as a lone biker sped through the light as it turned yellow, they were the only other person at the intersection besides them.

Their signal turned green and Jonathan turned onto the road that would lead them home. They passed by the schools as they went. It reminded Will of the reason he wanted to clean the living room up a little.

"Tomorrow a friend's coming over before we head down to the junkyard. I just don't want the living room to be a mess."

Tomorrow the Party would be meeting up at the junkyard. It was an unofficial clubhouse of theirs and they wanted Veronica to see it.

It would be the first time she hung out with them outside of school, well at all actually. She'd gotten detention almost as soon as she'd agreed to be their friend and they hadn't seen much of her since then. She was in the year above them so they didn't have any classes together. And she had a tutoring session after school that afternoon so she couldn't come over to Mike's.

Will had suggested he meet her at her place and they ride together to meet the others but Veronica insisted on meeting him at his place. She managed to pry the directions out of him and now he had to clean the house.

"A _friend? _Mike, Lucas and Dustin don't care what the place looks like. Who's coming over?"

Will had been actively avoiding telling his family about his new friend. He wasn't ashamed of her or anything, he just knew that he wasn't exactly _popular. _He didn't make new friends. It wasn't his thing. So him introducing a new friend was kind of a big deal. And the fact that she was a _girl _made it an even bigger deal.

And he knew that his mom and Jonathan would crack jokes and make assumptions. But it wasn't like that. And he didn't want to make a big deal about it.

"There's a new kid this year. Uh, they're in the year above me but, um, they're really cool and nice. Not like everyone else at school."

"You sure about this guy? I mean, I don't want to-"

Will knew where his brother was going with this. He ducked his head at the reminder. He'd been befriended before only to be burned. Kids daring each other to hang out with the freaks or new kids who were scared off by the bullying.

But Veronica wasn't like that.

"No. I'm sure. I mean you should have seen her! She totally kicked James's and Troy's asses. Detention for a week! But it was totally worth it. James had a black eye for a week and Troy had to wear his gym clothes for the rest of the day because his clothes were covered in food. It was awesome." Will found himself smiling at the memory.

"_She?"_ Will looked at his brother from the corner of his eyes. He could see the surprise on Jonathan's face. The raised brows and the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

"_Yes_, _she." _Will sighed knowing the inevitable was coming. "Veronica Lehane."

"Veronica, hmm? What's she like?" Will could hear the smirk in his brother's voice.

_What was she like?_

Will didn't really know much about Veronica. She wasn't exactly an open book.

"I don't know. She does some kind of karate, I think. She plays Dungeons and Dragons, says she's a Paladin. Uh, she reads a lot, usually has a book with her at lunch if she's not doing something else. She doesn't have any friends yet."

"She has you guys, right?" Will felt his own brows furrow as he thought.

Veronica was sort of scary to be honest. She scowled more often than not and she stared like she _knew_ things about you that you didn't even know yourself. It was intimidating.

And he didn't really know why he felt the need to know her.

He just knew that she was worth knowing. Something just told him that she was important. That she was good. That she was a friend.

His friends were a little less sure of her, at first anyway. But they trusted his judgment and seemed to see a bit of whatever it was that he saw in her too, especially after the lunch incident.

"Yeah. She does." They were willing to let her into the fold, if she was willing to do the same with them. That's what the junkyard meeting would be. The first official hangout, not supervised by a teacher.

"Is she pretty?" Will rolled his eyes and glared out the window at his brother's taunting question. He knew this was coming.

He didn't see her like that. He knew she was a girl, but he didn't really notice the stuff that made her one. He saw the hair and the lashes and the jewelry but it didn't really mean anything. He didn't notice girls like that yet.

And Veronica was his friend, so he didn't think he'd notice that about her even when he did start taking an interest in girls.

"Shut up. It's not like that."

"If you say so."

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

"I don't know if I can do this." Veronica looked up as she finished applying the last piece of tape to his chest.

She'd cooled down a bit from the earlier interrogation.

She'd been so _angry _with Andrew. But he'd been so pathetically weak and sorry, that she couldn't hold on to the anger for very long.

She wasn't going to lie though, she purposely misplaced the tape for the mic so that she could rip it off and correct the positioning. The anger hadn't died down completely after all.

Andrew now stood in front of her, holding his shirt up to his neck and tilting his head back toward the ceiling. She watched as he fidgeted, shifting his weight between his feet and working his jaw back and forth.

They were preparing him for his meeting with The First.

She'd listened to his explanation earlier. Veronica had made him retell the encounter word for word. And then she practically shoved him down the stairs as she forcefully guided him to the dining room. She actually did have to shove him into the dining room when he nervously hesitated by the doorway.

Buffy and Xander had both left earlier for their dates.

Spike was off who knew where. Giles and Anya had gone upstairs to deal with Chao-Ahn and the other Potentials. Veronica had pulled aside Willow and filled her in.

She'd made him tell the Witch about his little meeting with The First and everyone agreed that they should see the situation as an opportunity to gather intel.

It had been Amanda's idea to record the meeting. Willow has jumped at the idea, claiming she already had everything they would need.

Verona didn't even want to know _why_ Willow already had a wire and the transmission stuff.

She made sure the tape was secure before tugging his shirt back down to cover his body again.

"You have to." He _really_ did have to.

They had nothing on The First. Absolutely nothing. And it was slowly destroying them. Not only was it killing off Potentials faster than they could find them, but it was also killing off the morale of the group.

Buffy had gained back the confidence of the group with her little show of killing the Turok-Han. The girls now believed that Buffy was capable of protecting them, and more importantly _teaching _them. But the good faith the others put in the original Slayer could only last for so long without any real results.

They hadn't seen any signs of The First in a while, but the threat was constantly looming over their heads. It was a constant weight on everyone's shoulders. Searching for answers but finding no leads. Contacting Watchers and getting no answers or being told the Potentials were on their way.

Waiting.

Waiting for the Potentials to make it to Sunnydale. Waiting for the information they need. Waiting for The First to finally make its move.

The waiting was finally over.

They needed any information the thing was willing to give and Andrew was going to be the one to get it.

Willow was surprised that The First decided to make its move through Andrew, Veronica not so much.

Veronica could see the way that everyone eyed Spike, something about a chip being gone and the Vampire being able to hurt people. But even though Spike had the ability to inflict damage, he was more driven than Andrew.

He was bound to the cause.

Spike fancied Buffy, that was easy to see. He was willing to put his life on the line if she'd bothered to ask. He was devoted to the group because she was. She was his motivation to not betray the team, willingly at least.

But it wasn't all about the Slayer.

Veronica knew that he noticed the way everyone watched him. She watched as he met Giles's glares head on. She watched as he smoked on the porch at night, staring out into the distance with his jaw clenched in silence.

This fight was personal for him. Not just because The First had kidnapped and manipulated him before, though it did contribute. He had something to prove. He had a soul now, but he'd been soulless for a long time before that. He'd hurt countless people, people in their group no doubt.

Taking out the literal embodiment of evil itself was a good way to wipe his slate clean. Prove that he was on the side of good and worthy of his new soul.

Spike had too much to fight for, too much to prove.

Andrew was still a wild card though. Unbound to the group and weak willed. Easily led. She was unsure of where his loyalties had truly lied until he came out and told her the truth.

"But why me?" He whined. She watched as he paced back and forth across the basement floor. "Why not Spike? He's all big and bad and he finally has his chip out. That's who I'd pick if I were trying to lure one of us onto the dark side."

Veronica pulled herself onto the table, sitting beside the tape and the rest of the recording stuff. She swung her legs a bit as she watched the boy before her stew in his anxiety.

She listened to him rant and noticed the use of the word "_us_" as he referred to the side of good. He was finally starting to find his place amongst them. Despite all the indifference he seemed to get from everyone there, including herself. He'd chosen.

"Andrew." He kept pacing, muttering to himself as he did so. She raised her voice. "Andrew!"

It seemed to snap him out of his panic for the moment.

"It doesn't matter why The First chose you. It just did, it's already been done. You say you want redemption? This is the best way to go about it. We need any information The First is willing to give us. It doesn't even have to be anything big, just a little insight will make all the difference."

"But I'm not brave."

"Well you're going to have to summon up the courage from somewhere else than."

"Jonathan would have known what to do."

Veronica held her tongue. Her automatic reaction was to point out that he was the one who had killed Jonathan. She knew antagonizing him wouldn't help with his nerves. They didn't need him all high strung and twitchy during his meeting with The First, well no twitchier than usual.

She was still a bit irritated with Andrew but she knew that he needed encouragement, otherwise the whole thing was going to go south.

"Jonathan was the one who wanted to help stop The First, right? You guys were out of the country and he wanted to come back and help stop The First Evil. He didn't have to. That sounds pretty brave to me. Channel some of that courage. _For Jonathan_."

"_For Jonathan." _Andrew nodded, repeating the words to himself like a mantra.

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 16th, 1983**_

It was Faith's birthday.

And she'd forgotten.

Every year she did something for each of her friends she'd left behind. Something small usually. A cupcake or a special meal. Maybe she'd do something that reminded her of that person. Visit a library. Find an apothecary or a nice garden. Sneak into a construction site. Window shop at a mall. Go to a comic book store. Something that reminded her of that person.

Sometimes she'd just spend the day sketching.

But Faith's birthday was a different story all together.

Faith was family in a way the others weren't. So she felt like she mourned the day more than the rest.

Not only that but it was also the anniversary of the day she'd gone off world. Not in her world but in this one. She couldn't recall the date it had been in her world when she'd left, but she knew she'd probably landed in the 80s on September 16th and woken up early morning on the 17th.

So the day was just a giant fuck you from the Powers.

It was a reminder of everything that she'd lost. It was the one day where she let herself just _mourn_.

And she forgot.

She didn't know if she should be relieved that she hadn't been wallowing in self pity all day or guilty that she'd forgotten.

Neither her nor Faith really did birthdays. They didn't do parties or presents, not willingly at least.

Birthdays weren't exactly happy occasions for either of them before becoming a Slayer.

An alcoholic mother, absentee father and the Watcher from Hell didn't exactly entail birthday celebrations and happy memories.

They usually ignored the days. Together though. Sparring and training in the mornings, a lazy afternoon and a patrol at night. It became a tradition. Skip the celebrations by celebrating in their own way.

Every year on her birthday and Faith's she spent the night at the cemetery. She did it back in her world and she stuck to tradition in this one.

Hawkins would be no different.

Veronica walked her bike through the headstones as she made her way to the older part of the cemetery. The headstones further in were more ornate and weathered, less kept than the plots near the front of the grounds. No one left to mourn the loss of the bodies buried on this side.

She walked until she was at the very edge of the cemetery, right before the land met the forest. She propped her bike up against a tree before settling down against a headstone not too far away.

Adeline Forrester. Beloved mother and wife. The dates at the bottom had worn away, she couldn't make out the details but she died in 18 something.

Veronica sat against the tombstone and set her backpack down beside her.

The graveyard was silent save the trees and the crickets. The side of the cemetery she was in was dark, further away from the streetlights and roads but the moon was just waxing so it wasn't too dark.

It was eerie being in such a silent cemetery. Back in her home world the cemeteries were always busy.

There were always Slayers patrolling, Vampires lurking and what not. Andrew gossiping about the minis or telling her about his latest nerdy obsession. Faith bragging about her latest slay or whatever tale tickled her fancy.

Even when she was by herself the cemetery always seemed to have a constant hum in the background. The magic from the consecrated grounds, the magic from the Vampires and Demons that prowled around. It all hummed. A constant buzzing in the back of her mind that she had grown used to.

Stepping into a graveyard used to bring about a wave of energy that washed over her entire being. Waking the Slayer within. The Witch too.

When she stepped through the gates of Hawkins Cemetery all she felt was hollow.

_Longing_.

She dug into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She'd stolen them from Steve. He didn't need them.

She pulled out a single cigarette and rolled it between her fingers. Funny how a little stick could kill you. Faith was never worried though. The life they lived would kill them before cancer would, or at least that's what the older Slayer always told her.

There was always a lingering scent of smoke on Faith. It was one of the clearest things she remembered about her mentor.

Veronica was beginning to forget. The date had slipped her mind, yes, but that was only the beginning. She was beginning to lose the details, slowly but surely. The image she had of the original Slayer was beginning to blur within her mind. The images of everyone really.

She could recall the big stuff but the little things were fading fast.

Veronica slipped the unlit death stick between her lips as she pulled out her sketchbook and charcoals.

She started with the eyes.

Almond shaped, and pulled down a bit at the outer corners. A slight dusting of shadow and full but short lashes. She shaded in the irises a medium grey seeing as she was working with black and whites. She gave the brows a soft arch but lingered there.

She couldn't recall the slope of her nose or the shape of her face. She traced a line down the page with her coal stained fingers, leaving behind a trail of grey.

She could no longer picture the smirk that she knew the Slayer pulled more often than not. She couldn't remember the exact design of the tattoo the woman constantly showed off.

Veronica flipped the page to start again.

She couldn't even recall the shape of Andrew's eyes, she'd just drawn his brows and irises and the outline of his jaw.

A new page.

She ended up just drawing Xander's eyepatch and that was technically cheating.

Her eyes began to water so she shut the book, not wanting to ruin the pages with tears.

She tilted her head back so she was looking up at the moon, her head resty against Adeline's headstone.

She'd been off-world for three years.

She wasn't going back. No matter how much she wanted to go home, she was stuck here. She had to accept that.

She thought she had accepted it, actually.

She'd been focused on her mission and she'd been making an effort to fit in with Will and his friends. She'd thought she was okay. And then a couple words on an English paper ripped her steely appearance to shreds.

Goddess, she was pathetic. She'd spent the afternoon fighting off tears and here she was again. Crying. This time in a cemetery.

Veronica let her eyes go gold. Willing heat into the tip of her forefinger. She pressed it to the tip of the cigarette between her lips and kept it there until the thing lit up.

She watched as a single wisp of smoke rose from the glowing end and disappeared into the air above her. She didn't inhale. She just let the scent of the smoke and tobacco fill her nose.

She hoped the smell would ground her. If not then the burn of the ash.

She let her eyes fall shut and she pushed her magic outward. Searching. Reaching for that girl in the lab.

She was making progress. She was making friends. She was settling in. She was working on her powers. She was letting the past go, letting it slip between her fingers.

But she'd been avoiding something, that connection she'd made with the Witch in the lab. The way she'd slipped into the girl's mind.

She'd been working on everything but that.

It was finally time to try again.

—

_**Sunnydale California, January, 2003**_

It was early morning when Veronica tiptoed around Chao-Ahn's sleeping form. Dawn was spread eagled across the bed snoring softly, while Amanda clung to the very edge of the mattress. Everyone had gone to bed late, working on the sting for The First and waiting for Buffy and Spike to bring Xander home safe.

It had been an exhausting night, yet she couldn't go to sleep. The others had drifted off fairly soon after turning the lights out. Veronica had stared up at the ceiling for the past few hours, waiting for sleep to take her but being left disappointed.

Her mind just wouldn't shut off. She kept thinking and playing over the events of the day.

Her conversations with Andrew. The anger he'd caused. The hurt too. Xander's torso wrapped in bandages. The image of Jonathan's corpse in the basement. The First's taunting words playing on a constant loop in her head.

_You think this was smart?_

_You think you could trick me?_

_You'll only hear what I want you to hear._

_You'll only see what I want you to see. _

_So many dead girls. _

_There'll be so many._

They'd angered the literal embodiment of evil. And they'd learned nothing new in the process.

She'd been seeing Jonathan's decaying face and picturing the same decay in everyone else's image. Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, Anya, Giles. The Potentials. Herself.

Grey waxy skin, bloody, unseeing pale eyes. Dead.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw corpses.

She needed to distract herself. And she needed to pee. So she crept out of the room she shared with Dawn and the others and shut the door softly behind her.

She found herself downstairs after using the restroom.

The whole house was in darkness. Everyone was asleep and it was early enough that it was still dark out. Though Spike was probably still awake somewhere, she supposed.

Xander and Andrew had both claimed a couch as their own. Xander was unable to drive with his injury and Andrew was banned from sharing a room with any of the house's other occupants.

Veronica slipped past them both, though it wasn't really hard to do so as they were both notoriously heavy sleepers.

She found herself sitting at the dining room table, a few sheets of paper in front of her and a pencil in her hand.

She started to sketch.

She hadn't really drawn anything since sometime before the Council bombing. It was something she had liked to do in her free time, what little free time she was actually permitted.

Traveling from the different Council outposts they called home. The visits to Headquarters when Blake was busy in meetings. The rare days her Watcher was too lazy to train her to death. These were the only times she was allowed to herself.

Watcher Blake preferred that Veronica spent her time reading. Classic novels mostly. She'd have rather read the many grimoires that lined the libraries in each house they occupied, but Blake disliked witchcraft with a passion. He'd avoided the subject material after he'd touched upon the basics, and he left the real stuff to Price and anyone else the Council assigned.

Veronica had read all the books Buffy's home had to offer, she may have just skimmed the spell books but still.

Veronica used to find herself drawing a lot in her time with her past Watcher. Often when he left her alone to study she'd sketch out the scene outside a window nearby, or an antique that lined the room.

She'd tuck her drawings away when he'd come in to check on her, fearing what he'd do if he found out she'd wasted her time on silly drawings instead of the demonology texts he'd assigned.

She'd once had a collection of little sketches she'd kept hidden in her room. Watcher Blake had found them and tossed them into the fireplace. He then made her run laps around the house until she could no longer continue. "You waste my time? I waste yours."

It was nights like this that she almost wished Blake was there to train her into unconsciousness. So that she could finally sleep.

Maybe her body just didn't know how to function normally anymore? Either that or the constant threat of death was stressing her out more than she'd originally thought. Either way, it seemed like she hadn't been able to get a decent night's sleep since she'd gotten to Sunnydale.

She found herself looking into the dead eyes of Jonathan. She'd sketched the image of his decaying body, almost unconsciously. A mirror of the image that she saw every time she closed her eyes.

Veronica slipped the sketch into the bottom of her stack of paper. She didn't need to dwell on the image any more than she already had.

A snort brought her attention back to the living room. She didn't know which one of the two had broken her out of her thoughts, but she was grateful.

She moved on to sketching the image of Xander's form laid out on the couch, his bandages exposed and his arm hanging limply off the couch. She was just starting in on the shading when light began to filter in through the windowed doors.

Her pencil hovered over the outline of Xander's hair when a creek from the stairs caught her attention.

Veronica watched a tired Willow turn the corner with a few tomes tucked beneath her arm.

"Oh, you're up early." Veronica watched as the redheaded Witch set her books down by the seat in front of her.

"I never went to sleep." Veronica's response was met with a frown.

Willow sighed. "Me neither, to be honest." The older Witch ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I keep hearing The First in my head. 'You think this was smart?' I'm such an idiot. We didn't even get anything good, and now The First is all angry."

Out of all the leaders in the group Willow was the most open. She wore her emotions out on her sleeve and she couldn't hide her expressions to save her life.

At first Veronica had been suspicious about that. As if all the babble and smiles were an act. But she'd seen more emotions from Willow as time went on. Her lightheartedness wasn't an act, it was just her default mood. She was equally as expressive in her frustration and fear, and it was reassuring.

Buffy seemed to be stoic every time something bad happened. And Xander was always hiding behind his jokes.

Willow's frustration comforted Veronica, let her know that she wasn't alone in her worries.

Veronica pulled out the sheet of paper with Jonathan's image and slid it to the woman in front of her. "I keep seeing Jonathan's body."

Willow looked at the drawing, running a hand down the image as she took it in. "Well, aren't we a pair?"

The two Witches looked at each other with tired eyes and strained smiles.

"What are the books for?" Veronica reached over and tapped the end of her pencil against a leather bound cover.

"Xander refused to go to the hospital to have his stomach checked out. He says it doesn't really hurt, but it _did_ stop him from driving home. Not sure how deep the wound goes, either. I'm hoping there'll be a spell or potion that'll help heal whatever damage is there. Do you mind helping me look?"

"Sure. No problem." Veronica dragged the first book to her side of the table and carefully opened it to the first page. She was met with a wall of handwritten Latin text.

This was going to be a long morn-

"Actually, I might have a grimoire that can help." Veronica hadn't had much left to bring with her when Giles picked her up from the Devon Coven. She'd been dropped off with the Witches for an assessment hours before the bombing. She'd stayed with the coven until Giles had arrived. And though the coven had treated her well Veronica had stolen a tome from their library.

The book contained spells and rituals for healing. Healing magic was advanced and taxing and difficult. It took major amounts of magic and energy. More often than not the rituals required blood sacrifice ranging from a few drops of blood to death. It really depended on the level of damage that needed to be healed.

Veronica had been hoping to find a way to heal away the scarred flesh on her neck and shoulder. Unfortunately the spells within were meant for fresh wounds. Scarring couldn't be healed away. One would have to reopen the wound or cut off the scarred surface before mending the skin back together, unmarred and whole.

"I thought everything you owned blew up with the Council?" Willow leaned into the table as she took in Veronica's words.

"I _might_ have borrowed the book from the Devon Coven." She didn't even blink as she spoke the words to the older woman.

"_Borrowed?_ Veronica, they don't just lend out their texts. Trust me! I've asked." Veronica quirk a brow at the bitterness in that last sentence.

"Okay. I _stole_ the book from the Devon Coven. The point is, I have a book on healing magic." It was just semantics, really. What did it matter? So long as she had what they needed who cared where she got the book from?

"You can't just _steal _from a coven like that! A lot of the books and rituals are passed down from generation to generation. I mean, that's like stealing a diary or a, uh, family cookbook! The recipes are for family eyes only!" There was a hint of panic in her voice and Veronica didn't understand where it was coming from. She'd had the spell book for several months and she hadn't been punished or smited yet. The Sunnydale group was regularly in contact with the Devon Coven and it hadn't come up even once in the many phone calls exchanged. She was in the clear as far as she was concerned.

"You know the Devon Coven right?" At Willow's nod of confirmation Veronica continued. "Then you know that the coven is home to some of the most powerful psychics _in the world_. There's no way I could have stolen anything without them _seeing it _before it was even a thought in my head. They didn't stop me. And there weren't any protections in the book. Sounds like an invitation to me."

"Oh, Gods." Willow shook her head before pushing herself away from the table. "Just bring the book down here. I'm going to make myself some coffee and pretend I don't know where you got the book from."

"I'll go do that."

"You better."

—

_**Hawkins Indiana, September 16th, 1983**_

Finding the girl in the lab was easy.

She visited the girl through her magic almost every night. The other Witch was almost always awake. Sometimes she'd just be calm, the aura around her core brighter than usual, less murky. More often than not though she'd find the girl's aura in a state of panic. Her blue-green tone tainted dark, and the steady pulse of her magic turned erratic.

This time was a mix of both. The girl wasn't in a panic, but it wasn't calm either.

Veronica's magic brushed along the girl's core and felt a shiver of fear run down her own spine. It wasn't the same terrifying feeling she'd experienced the first time.

This fear was quieter, weaker.

The kind of fear you felt as you walked down a dark street by yourself. Like you were anticipating fear more than you were actually feeling it.

Veronica allowed her tendrils on magic to wrap itself around the girl's core. She could see the gold wisps lick across the murky sphere of magic.

Veronica pulled the cigarette from her mouth and took a deep breath, before settling the stick back between her parted lips.

She pushed forward, mentally. Allowing her magic to take that last step.

She watched as gold tendrils seeped into the teal-ish core beneath them. Her magic and the girl's entangled, entwining until she couldn't see the seams between them.

Veronica opened her eyes and saw a dark room. It almost seemed like her eyes were still closed but she could make out the barest hint of light coming from the outline of a door.

The light was moving though.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Again and again.

But the light wasn't moving. The girl was. Back and forth she rocked. The thin strips of light seemingly floating around in the darkness.

Veronica could hear the brushing of fabric and the slap of bare skin meeting linoleum as she felt herself rocking back and forth. She could feel herself panting, trying to control her breathing. She could feel the beating of her heart hammering against her chest and hear her pulse roaring in her ears.

_It was cold. _

_And Dark. _

_And she couldn't breathe. _

_And-_

Veronica jumped as she choked on a cloud of smoke. Her hand blindly fumbled for the cigarette between her lips. She coughed as she stubbed the cigarette out onto the tombstone behind her, silently apologizing to Adeline.

It wasn't _her. _

It wasn't _Veronica _feeling those things. It wasn't _Veronica _that was trapped in a dark room.

Veronica was finally able to separate _herself_ from the girl in the lab. Sure she'd had to choke on a mouth full of smoke to do it, but it happened.

Veronica watched as the room continued to tilt _back and forth_.

She could still feel the girl's panic, but it was secondary. The same way she read auras, she felt it but wasn't a part of it.

Veronica felt a wave of sadness crash over her, the girl's not hers. It pooled in her chest and she felt a physical ache as the girl began to cry.

"Papa." She listened to the girl as she whispered for help.

"Shh." Veronica tried to calm the girl. Shushing her in a soothing whisper only for her words to go unnoticed.

"It's okay." Veronica tried to send the words along mentally but it wasn't working. "Don't cry."

"Papa!" She listened as the girl's voice broke as she cried out for help. She could feel tears running down her cheeks. Both hers and the girl's.

"Gods, I'm so fucking sorry."

This was _bullshit_.

How the fuck was she supposed to help this girl? She couldn't get into the damn lab. And all she could do was ride passenger in the girl's mind. She was practically screaming out to the girl but it seemed the connection was definitely only one way.

Veronica listened as the Witch began to hyperventilate. Her breathing ragged. Choking on her saliva in between breaths and pleads for help.

"Fuck."

The girl was having a meltdown. Veronica could feel the girl's magic coiling tight, readying itself for a dangerous release. She could feel her own magic building in response.

Veronica thought back to her own magical outbursts. Thought back to what soothed her down.

She began to hum.

_Hmm, hm, hmmm._

_Hm._

_Hmm, hm, hmmmmm._

_Hmm, hm, hmmm._

_Hm, hm, hm._

She hummed again and again until she felt the magic within herself calm.

Veronica noticed that the girl's magic had also calmed. No longer was it wound tight, ready to explode.

Everything about the girl had calmed actually.

She was no longer rocking back and forth. Instead she was lying on the cool floor, her cheek pressed into the tile and her hands curled beneath her chin and neck respectively.

The outline of the door was still there, just turned on its axis. Until her eyelids shut.

The girl's breathing was calm, so was her pulse.

Veronica stopped humming.

But the melody continued on in her mind.

"_Hmm, hm, hmmm." _The girl in the lab hummed Veronica's tune, continuing the song without her.

"Holy shit. Can you hear me?" Veronica spoke the words out loud and within her mind but she didn't get a response.

She just listened as the girl finished up the song before starting over again.

_Hmm, hm, hmmm._

Veronica listened until the humming stopped. And when it did she pulled herself out of the girl's mind with relative ease compared to last time.

She could feel the ache in her chest as she pried their auras apart. Gold wisps rising up from the sea-like core, unraveling and untangling itself from the magic within.

Veronica pulled until their last tendrils of magic separated. Her head snapped back against the headstone behind her.

Veronica rubbed at the back of her head with one hand and touched her lip with the other.

She was bleeding again.

Her upper lip was wet with blood, but it didn't seem to be as bad as before. She wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her jacket, before packing up her stuff.

She checked her watch and saw that it was past midnight. She'd been in her trance for hours.

She needed to get home.

—

**Author Note: **Okay. It has been a couple months since my last update and I want to apologize to the readers who've been asking about the next update. I'm sorry it took so long for me to post. I absolutely love Buffy but season 7 is some of the most difficult to get through because the episodes are emotionally/character driven. It's been difficult to find a way to blend in my character with the cast with the scenes shown without inserting my OC into storylines that are beyond her role. As you can probably see I'm following a pattern with the Buffy flashbacks, and the really good stuff doesn't happen for another couple episodes. I've just had major writers block and have been putting off attempting this fic because of it. But I am back, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but there will be another chapter. I have no plans to abandon this fic. Hopefully I can get the next chapter up in a few weeks.

**P.S: **I'm so glad to see a lot of feedback from this fic. I love the fact that people are asking about plot points and trying to figure things out.

**P.P.S: **I hope everyone is doing well. Stay safe and healthy.


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